


Me, Myself, and You

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [27]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, BAMF Stephen Strange, Boys In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, IronStrange family, M/M, Self-Hatred, Time Travel, Tony Stark Has A Heart, self-harmish, trigger warning: panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-07-29 02:50:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16255151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: When Stephen was awoken in the middle of the night by an intruder to the Sanctuary he did not expect to find a ten-year older version of himself, or the horrible revelations of his future.*Tags have been updated. Please mind them.





	1. Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration struck me again. Not gonna lie, I think this will hurt a little along the way. I hope everyone still enjoys :)

   Stephen wasn’t sure what woke him at first. He came to with Tony’s arms wrapped tightly around his torso as if to help fend off the chill that was steadily invading their room. A glance at the fireplace showed its flames barely holding onto life, Stephen reignited them with a wave of his hand. He relaxed back against Tony, eyes blinking groggily, noticing for the first time the steady pounding against the window suggesting an onslaught of rain, he figured that was what woke him.

   He could feel Tony’s breath puffing warm air into his neck and he smiled lazily, wondering what time it was, knowing it couldn’t be anywhere near morning. He craned his head toward the nightstand, wondering if he could reach his phone without disturbing his lover, when he felt it. There was a strange sense of violation that swept through him, an insistent tugging in his gut that told him to stand and fight, his home had been invaded.

   Stephen tensed minutely, recognizing the warning signs that someone was in the Sanctuary that was not supposed to be there. His eyes swept through the darkened room wearily for a moment, he spotted the Cloak still hanging by the fire and beckoned to it. It came in a silent sweep to his bedside where it waited patiently for its master. Stephen for his part took a deep breath to calm his mind, it was not the first time a presence had entered the Sanctuary in the middle of the night and it was just as likely to be friend as foe, there was no need to overreact.

   Carefully Stephen extracted himself from Tony’s arms, unwilling to wake the man who would go into high alert instantly. It took several long moments that Stephen really couldn’t spare but eventually he managed to slip from the man’s iron grasp to much quiet grumbling. He was lucky Tony could sleep like the dead most nights. The moment his feet touched the cool wood beneath him he smiled, could sense the essence of the Sanctuary, it wasn’t defensive and was responding favourably to the Sorcerer, all good signs.

   As he stood his usual Master of the Mystic Arts attire wrapped around him until he was dressed properly. The Cloak settled on his shoulders and as Stephen made his way to the door, tactfully avoiding the creaky spots in the floor, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and willed his brain to focus. As he slipped out he moved his fingers into a quick formation, he didn’t want to assume whoever was there was dangerous, but he still felt better putting a simple protection spell on the room, while Tony slept on, oblivious. He winced slightly as his fingers did the motions, stiff from hours of inaction.

   Soon enough he was moving swiftly down the hallway, ears straining for sounds of movement as he went. Whoever was there had been powerful enough to get through the layers of defenses put in place to keep the average human away, as well as those to dissuade Sorcerer’s with poor intentions. He slowed as he descended the stairway, the Cloak flaring some to keep his steps light. It was only upon reaching the bottom that he heard it, there was aggravated mumbling coming from the library to the right and the distinct sound of things being moved, dropped. Stephen instinctively summoned shields around his hands as he approached, it would take but a flick of the wrist to conjure his usual whip in this way.

   He paused just on the side of the doorway, listening for a moment but the grumbling was quiet enough that he couldn’t make out words. Taking a deep breath Stephen went for an aura of calm, it would be best not to aggravate the individual right off the bat. If they were dangerous then things were likely to devolve no matter his attitude, but if they were looking for something in particular or needed help he may be able to keep things respectful. He almost snorted, with his luck things were going to be violent anyway.

   He kept his shields, however. He wasn’t a complete idiot. Refusing to allow himself the time for overthinking Stephen turned the corner and walked into the library, emanating confidence and authority. The man didn’t even notice him, and it _was_ a man clearly, though his form was mostly hidden by the cloth draped across his back. The room was dark, the only light coming from the large window where the moon was already obscured by the rain clouds. Stephen strained to see by the light of his shields for any obvious weapons, but the man was still pulling books from shelves in a haste and discarding them equally fast.

   Feeling a tad foolish Stephen waved his hand and the lights flickered on around them. “Can I help you with something?” He asked.

   The form froze, and Stephen tensed. Eyes on the very familiar, if more tattered Cloak hanging off the man’s back. The man turned around and the shields still on his hands stuttered out as Stephen stared open-mouth in shock at himself.

   Before him was a man who was certainly him, if he were perhaps twenty years older by his guess. His hair was streaked with new grey highlights which was also speckled in his goatee, his face was marred by deeper wrinkles around the eyes and mouth, and an unfortunate scar ran down the side of his cheek toward his neck. It was his eyes, however, that drew Stephen’s gaze, a wisdom and pain that made a horrified shiver run up his spine. The man was clearly exhausted and just come from a trial of some sort if the sheen of sweat and dirt was any indication. Despite that, however, he stood back straight and imposing similarly to how Stephen was currently holding himself, and recognizably scarred and trembling hands gripped a book at his side.

   A grim smile graced the man’s lips as he took in Stephen’s reaction, he seemed amused more then anything and Stephen kind of hated how that was exactly what he would expect from himself. On instinct his eyes shifted to the man’s chest and he realized that the only thing missing from his uniform that was in every other way identical was the Eye.

   “Yes, yes I am you. Take it all in, but maybe be quick about it?”

   Stephen swallowed thickly clinging to his professionalism. “Well, it’s a little unexpected.”

   His other self, Stephen paused mentally already deciding to simply name him Strange, shook his head. “Supposed to be our specialty remember?”

   “Right. So, care to explain?” He asked, reminding himself he was a Sorcerer with a Time Stone and this shouldn’t be as weird as it was.

   Strange nodded, expression turning serious and Stephen found himself stepping closer. There was no reason not to trust himself really. “I can’t explain too much you understand.” Stephen tilted his head in agreement. “But I’m dealing with a threat in the future and am in desperate need of resources that are here but not there.”

   “Straight forward. Lovely.” Stephen stepped up to scan the shelves, noting it contained information on cosmic entities. His stomach twisted, and nausea tickled the back of his throat, “what are we looking for?”

   Strange seemed to take in his reaction with a sympathetic gaze that felt far to intimate for Stephen who was never one for self reflection and this was a little too close. “That is the problem. I need to identify the damn thing and haven’t been able to find a thing about it back home.”

   “What makes you think its here though?”

   “Distant memory.”

   Stephen almost rolled his eyes at himself, uh Tony was right, he _could_ be exasperating. “What’s changed about the books at the Sanctuary?”

   Strange’s lips pressed together to form a thin line.

   “Off limits. Got it.” Stephen had to work hard to stifle the sudden flurry of questions spinning around his head, the way his curiosity began a steady burn inside him.

   Strange stared at him in annoyance. “My God, now I understand all those lectures Wong gives me about controlling my curious urges.”

   Stephen just glared at him. “I thought we needed to be quick.”

   There was a pause and Strange’s eyes flickered to the stairway with an odd look in them. “Its not technically urgent but…” He seemed to take a steadying breath. “It would be for the best that I leave before anyone knows I’m here.”

   Apprehension built in Stephen, his own senses flaring to double check the spell he placed on the room where Tony was still slumbering. All was fine, but he felt the overwhelming urge to move the man along quickly, he wondered what that meant, that he was even uncomfortable with himself. Regardless, he was the Sorcerer in charge of the Sanctuary and he needed to get his head on straight and deal with this.

   “How can I help then?” Stephen asked, happy to steal the man’s attention from the stairs.

   “Hmm…give me your hand.”

   Stephen stared as Strange stretched his own out, palm up with awful trembling in the thin fingers. For the first time Stephen realized he could almost describe the man as gaunt, his cheeks and the rest of his body having the hints of sunken skin. He couldn’t help the question that slipped from his mouth before he could reign it in. “What spell are you maintaining?”

   Strange’s lips turned down slightly and for a moment Stephen thought he wasn’t going to answer until he gave an irritated sigh. “The creature I’m trying to figure out actually. I’ve managed to keep it contained…at least until I figure out how to kill it.” He shook his hand impatiently.

   Stephen nodded, not at all surprised by his answer and reached out to grip his own hand. There was what sounded like a wind tunnel and then an overwhelming sucking feeling as everything around him compressed into a haze, next thing he knew he was opening his eyes no longer himself, yet still in his body.

_Strange sat up with a groan, pain was zipping through him in horrible little shockwaves each time he moved his body. The Cloak was trying to get him to his feet, its worn edges wrapping tightly around him until he listened. His head was pounding as he looked around, took in the forest around him. He hadn’t meant to end up here, but the moment he sensed the power emanating he knew it was something foreign and unsupervised, he couldn’t exactly ignore it after all._

_His hand instinctively went to his chest, he pressed down absently against his tunic expecting to feel the familiar lump, and warm metal pressed into his skin. Instead he felt nothing, he froze for a moment, heart beating frantically in his chest as his trembling fingers scrabbled at his neckline for the chain that rested there._

_Finally, he caught it and yanked it out, he peered down as his hands ran along the cool metal until he felt it, twisted to the back in the strange little vortex that brought him here. Strange let it sit in his palm for a moment while his breath calmed, and the fear subsided. The ring was flawless, a testament to its high calibre after all this time pressed to his sweaty chest, of course he expected nothing less from Tony. The blue gem that sat imbedded in the simple black, tungsten, titanium band was almost unnoticeable, but it still caused an ache in his chest whenever he looked at it. Tony had said he chose it because it matched his eyes, though Stephen always suspected it was because of the similarity to the arc reactor. The man would never admit it, but he had a subtle possessive streak a mile wide and God he missed him, so fucking much._

_There was a groan on the wind then snatching his attention and reminding him why he was here to begin with. He carefully slid the ring and chain back beneath his tunic, giving it a little pat to reassure himself before beginning his trek toward the power source._

_It wasn’t long until he figured it out. It was coming from a large cluster of rocks, he could feel its vibration through the earth, sense its essence in the air beating in powerful little waves strong enough to take his breath away. He closed his eyes, reaching out and prodding gently at the presence. It was like that a monstrous face rose from the dark of his eyelids, it was crooked and lined like the bark of a tree but shaded in sickly greys, only its eyes betrayed a violet colour that so often haunted his nightmares when he was younger. He fell to his knees instantly, breath heaving but his eyes held firmly closed, trying to take in details. It opened its mouth with an angry groan as though Strange’s presence was intolerable, from the gaping hole came the distinct smell of decay and death. He gagged, breaking the connection._

   Stephen gasped as he was thrust back into his body, he stumbled back and onto his knees, desperately trying to take in his surroundings. Distantly he felt shaking hands on his shoulders, the Cloak pressing tightly against him, thinner worn fabric brushing across his face. Still he continued to blink rapidly into the unsurprised eyes of his own older self.

   “Calm down. Its not Dormammu, I made sure of it.”

   Stephen nodded, trying desperately to erase that face from his mind for a moment, he forced calming breaths and relaxed when Strange kneeled in front of him with another a grim smile. “That’ll get better I promise. There will be other things to haunt our nightmares.”

   Stephen couldn’t decipher if it was more warning or promise. He leaned back slightly against the couch behind him and tried hard for nonchalant. “So, is that all we have to go on?”

   He grinned at him with knowing eyes. “Yes, but I think its enough to give us a good place to start.”

   Stephen ran a hand through his hair trying to think, but as he stared at Strange his eyes kept dropping to his chest. He got the sense that Strange hadn’t wanted him to see quite that much, for his own part his stomach was rolling with fear as he replayed it in his head. Strange followed his gaze and shook his head. “Don’t.”

   Stephen ignored him, looking himself hard in the eye. “Is Tony alive when you are from?” His voice shook as it came out, but the last person he should be embarrassed by was his future self.

   Strange frowned, his hand absently pressing on his chest like it had in the vision. “time travel is a complicated thing…”

   “Oh, stuff it.” Stephen snapped with a glare. “I am well-aware of the dangers of time travel.” He motioned at the Eye around his neck. “You know as well as I do that unless you tell me, I’ll be useless to you.”

   He expression turned unsure, his hand still resting on his chest.

   “I won’t ask for details. I promise, but I need to know.”

   Stephen waited, breath coming and going harshly as his future self considered. Part of his brain was yelling insults at himself, that he didn’t actually want to know, the wise side of him reminding Stephen that ignorance was bliss. But all he could think of was Tony upstairs, sleeping and completely unaware, his heart gave a painful lurch. It wasn’t about _wanting_ to know, it was about _needing_.

   “Fine, but no more questions.” Strange warned, hand finally releasing the object to rest on his knees where he had pulled them into a meditative position.

   Stephen nodded quickly, it felt like his heart was going to burst from his chest.

   “Yes.” His face was carefully blank.

   Relief flooded him like a morphine hit, his limbs relaxed, his eyes fluttered closed, and breath came in easy puffs. For the moment all the other questions that resulted from that answer took a back seat as let himself just take it in. He could work now, he could get this done and send the man on his way without anymore concerns. Even though there were already a dozen things he brain was trying to connect he pushed it back roughly.

   “Thank you.”

   Strange nodded his head in understanding, eyes once again flicker to the staircase.

   “How long are you able to keep that thing contained?”

   Strange looked back at him and Stephen could practically sense it as both of their brains focused on the task at hand, all other distractions ignored for the moment.

   “Forty-Eight hours minimum. After that its questionable.”

   Stephen frowned, it wasn’t long but enough for them to get their heads on straight. “And how many are left so far?”

   “Its only been two hours.”

   “Forty-Six hours then.” Stephen mumbled. “Alright, I suggest you get some sleep and freshen up. You were exhausted even before you stumbled onto this creature and brought yourself here. Let alone containing it.”

   Strange opened his mouth to protest, but Stephen cut him off. “No point in the whole I’m fine spiel. I know as well as you that it’s the same bullshit we always say.”

   A little sarcastic smirk graced Strange’s face, it made the wrinkles crinkle more noticeably around his eyes and Stephen found himself staring in fascination. “Fine. What will you be doing while I’m on bedrest?”

   “I’m going to keep researching. I’ll lock down the Sanctuary, so no visitors will interrupt us and find you out, I’ll also take a look at some books in Kamar-Taj, maybe Wong will have some suggestions. I’ll kept it vague.” He assured.

   Strange nodded in agreement. His expression faltered a moment later, however, eyes darting around the room in a jumpy, unsure way that made Stephen stiffen though he didn’t know why. “What about Tony and Peter?” He asked, eyes drawn again out of the room.

   Stephen stared at him blankly. “What about them?”

   “They can’t know I’m here. How do you plan on hiding me?” His question was earnest as though fishing for more information.

   Stephen rubbed the back of his neck tiredly, “I wasn’t really going to have to. Tony has work for six am. Meetings until five, then an Avengers training exercise that he’ll probably just watch and do paperwork. Late nights usually mean spending the night at the penthouse, so we should be good. Peter isn’t supposed to come over tomorrow as far as I know, but I’ll send him a text to make sure he doesn’t.”

   Stephen watched his face as he spoke. It morphed from confused to dawning realization about halfway through and damn he really needed to work on his poker face. It was painfully obvious that Strange thought he and Tony were living together by now, something they discussed in detail but so far had been unable to come to an agreement. At least Stephen knew he would win the argument of staying in the Sanctuary. Peter, however, was a complete mystery. Strange seemed equally surprised that he wouldn’t be in the Sanctuary for the day or at least the evening, that was a puzzle Stephen wasn’t sure he wanted to figure out just yet.

   “Stephen?”

   Both men froze at the sound of Tony’s groggy voice calling from the top of the staircase. Even beyond the obvious exhaustion there was an undercurrent of worry there. Strange’s face paled so fast that Stephen thought he would pass out, his hands clenched uselessly on his knees. Stephen reached into one of his sewn in pockets and pulled out his extra sling ring, tossing it Strange who caught it instinctively even though he seemed to still be in a daze.

   “Get it together.” Stephen hissed, “third floor, fifth bedroom.”

   “Stephen?” Louder now and Tony was clearly descending the stairs. Stephen shrugged off the Cloak who swept from the room in a haste to hopefully hold the man up for a few minutes. Strange’s Cloak seemed to react in response with twitching corners as though it yearned to do the same.

   It seemed to knock Strange from his head and he stood, followed by Stephen and hastily made a portal. “You know I don’t need this right?” motioning at the sling ring. Stephen just rolled his eyes and made a shooing motion at the man, who stepped through quickly.

   “I’ll wake you after Tony is gone.” Stephen whispered hurriedly as the portal disappeared.

   Not three seconds later Tony rounded the corner, hands batting at the Cloak in irritation. He came to an abrupt stop when he saw Stephen standing there, the Cloak quickly returned to Stephen’s shoulders. Tony was squinting in the relatively bright light of library, face scrunched adorably, and arms wrapping around his bare chest since he clearly hadn’t thought beyond sliding on his sweatpants.

   “Did I wake you?” Stephen asked in lieu of anything else to say. His mind was still unhelpfully stuck on Strange’s reaction to Tony’s voice, and the discomfort of it.

   Tony stumbled forward a bit, blinking rapidly as he took in the mess behind Stephen, books still thrown haphazardly on the floor. He concerned gaze went back to Stephen, brows furrowed at him as though trying to solve a puzzle.

   “Are you alright?”

   Stephen offered a weak smile, not capable of much else. “Yes, perfectly fine.”

   He raised a skeptical eyebrow and came to stand in front of Stephen. His gaze turned calculating and how the hell was he so coherent this early in the morning? Finally, he took Stephen’s hands in his, thumbs rubbing gently on the outside. “Nightmare?” he asked.

   He hated to lie, but that would work, really it wasn’t _too_ far off. “Yeah, sorry I should have been quieter.”

   Tony shook his head. “I only woke up because I rolled over and you weren’t there. Wanted to make sure you weren’t dealing with anymore unwanted guests.” He teased.

   Stephen’s cheeks reddened. Tony had made it abundantly clear in the past when someone entered the Sanctuary in the middle of the night that he did not approve of being left behind to sleep while Stephen dealt with it. Turned out it was a good thing Stephen never listened to him about that.

   Tony leaned up and Stephen couldn’t help but meet him in a chaste kiss, loved the slightly hazy look that always slipped into Tony’s eyes. “Come back to bed? Or is it a stay up kind of night?”

   Stephen swallowed, the timer in his head ticking down. “Stay up kind of night.” He answered, hugging Tony close.

   The man yawned widely. “Ok.” He murmured. “I’ll put on the coffee.”

   Stephen snagged his arm as he tried to pull away. “No, its fine Tony. Go back to bed, you have an early morning.”

   Tony shook his head a bit. “I know how you get when you are left alone in your head.”

   “It wasn’t that bad.” Stephen insisted. “It was an older nightmare, I’m good, just couldn’t fall back asleep and figured I’d do some research.”

   Tony glanced at the mess still on the floor with doubtful eyes.

   Stephen ran his hands up his arms gently, warming him some. “I’m serious Tony, I might even join you in awhile.”

   He could see that the man wanted to argue, but he could also see exhaustion winning the fight in the way his eyelids stubbornly continued to droop. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly.

   “Completely. I promised to always tell you otherwise remember?”

   That seemed to do it. He relaxed instantly, a slow smile sliding onto his lips and he reached up for another quick kiss. “I love you, try to come back to bed soon or else.” He tried to warn with false seriousness.

   Stephen just rolled his eyes and spun him back toward the stairs. “Love you too, goodnight.”

   He watched Tony go and let out a heavy breath. Everything that had happened in the last thirty minutes finally crashed over him and he let out a low groan as he turned back to the floor to ceiling bookcases. He had absolutely no idea where to start, a ticking time bomb, and his older self sequestered away, all of which needed to be kept a secret from his horribly observant lover.

   Wonderful.


	2. Remebering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strange reveals a little too much about Peter's future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahem, I hope everyone enjoys. Please note the added trigger warning tag, it is for chapter three not this one though.

   Morning found Stephen four hours later hovering in the living room, books opened and sprawled across the floor and in the air. His eyes were sore with strain and exhaustion, his mind was running in circles going over what little information he had again and again that not a single damn book was able to help him with.

   Still it was only the sound of distinct footsteps that pulled him from his meditative state. Tony entered the room and immediately crossed his arms, stance wide and eyebrow raised in disapproval. Stephen had the foresight to pre-prepare Tony’s coffee in order to fend off what he knew was his very unhappy lover.

   He stalked forward until he was standing in front of Stephen. “You lied,” he accused.

   “I got distracted.” Stephen tried. “But I remembered to make you coffee.”

   Tony caught the beverage that floated up to him, but he still narrowed his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something only to be interrupted by a rather large yawn that Stephen tried to stifle. Tony’s eyes softened, and he held out a hand for him to grab which the Sorcerer took gratefully, sinking back down to his feet.

   “You haven’t gotten any sleep at all I guess.” His tone was suspiciously neutral.

   “I meditated.”

   “Uh huh.” Tony tugged him into the kitchen, leading him over to the stools around the small island where he sat. Without a word Tony began preparing a tea and popped two bagels in their toaster. Stephen didn’t have it in him to say he wasn’t hungry, that little clock ticking away in his head.

   Tony turned back to him, leaning against the counter while he waited on the bagels and sipped his coffee, eyes watching him carefully over the rim. Stephen worked really hard not to act suspiciously, which he did by staying very still. He was prone to fidgeting when he lied, something that only got worse with little sleep.

   “Do you have a lot to do today? Or are you able to get some extra sleep?” His expression was much clearer now, concern was the only thing in his gaze.

   “I have a few projects to deal with. I can sleep for a few hours first.”

   “Will you?” He asked, raising that damn eyebrow again.

   “Yes.” God, Stephen hated lying to the man. He seemed satisfied, however, turning at the sound of the bagels popping.

   Tony would be leaving in about twenty minutes, he was already showered and dressed in his usual casual suit which meant Stephen could go find Strange and hopefully sneak off with him to Kamar-Taj since their books were just not doing it.

   “Morning.” Came a gruff voice sending Stephen’s head twisting towards the doorway fast as a whip.

   “Good morning Wong.” Tony called out, not looking up from the bagels he was buttering.

   Wong turned to Stephen an obvious question in his gaze. The man was just as in tuned to the Sanctuary as himself and could sense a third presence and likely saw the mess of books as he passed by. “Why-” he started only to be cut off by Stephen’s harsh glare. Things were really not working out for him today.

   “Why what?” Tony asked as he placed a plate and cup in front of Stephen.

   Wong’s gaze shifted between the two of them for a moment then with his infamous exasperation he came to sit at the table next to Stephen, his expression promising one of his lectures. “Nothing,”

   Tony frowned, but his eyes were amused. “Geez everyone is having a bad morning today.”

   Stephen took the tea and let it sit warmly in his hands. “Do you need a portal to the meeting?”

   Tony nodded. “If you don’t mind.” He took a bite of his bagel and sipped his coffee absently, “are you coming home tonight?”

   Stephen met his lover’s gaze and offered an apologetic grimace. “I don’t think so. I have a lot to do today, I can meet you tomorrow?”

   From the corner of his eye Stephen could see Wong’s expression morph into confusion and Stephen prayed he would stay silent.

   “Sure.” Tony murmured.

   The next ten minutes were mostly filled with Tony and Wong sharing sarcastic remarks, between the causal kisses on the hand Tony had stolen from Stephen. It ended with Wong excusing himself as Tony got ready to leave, but Stephen called out to him. “Wong can I borrow your sling ring? Mine is still upstairs.” Another disapproving look, the man knew Stephen usually had a spare on him. He gave it up with a meaningful look toward the living room. He was not looking forward to explaining himself.

   Tony suddenly pulled him close, a small smile lighting up his face. His hands circled Stephen’s waist and he looked up into his eyes. “I haven’t said good morning yet.” He whispered.

   Stephen smiled back, he leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against Tony’s. He could feel his breath as it synched with his own, they allowed themselves a moment, just a short one before pulling away. “Good morning.” Stephen answered.

   “Hmm. I would cancel the meeting, but you need to get to sleep.” Stephen had no doubt he would, but that also meant they would stay in bed all day and unfortunately Stephen had a powerful inter-dimensional being to eradicate.

   “Go to your meeting and try not to argue with anyone for once.” Stephen said with a laugh, pulling fully out of his arms.

   Tony grinned. “That was what I wanted.” He motioned at Stephen’s laughing face. “Talk to you later love.”

 

 

   Four minutes later and Stephen was staring at the entrance of the living room desperately trying to think of an excuse to give Wong. He couldn’t lie and say it was a fellow Avenger or Master upstairs since Stephen was known to be fairly recluse beyond his immediate circle of Wong, Peter, Tony, Rhodey, and Bruce. Anyone else wouldn’t have been granted access to a room unless they were a master from Kamar-Taj, in which case Wong would already know them. In the end Stephen figured the truth, censored was the best option. Taking a steadying breath, he trudged into the living room and repressed the urge to hang his head like a scolded school child when he found the man tidying the books with a disapproving glare.

   “Who are you hiding upstairs?” Wong was never one to beat around the bush.

   Stephen crossed his arms, couldn’t help the slightly defensive position. “I was visited by a Sorcerer from the future last night and he asked that nobody know he is here.”

   Wong took it in stride. He didn’t miss a beat, plucking a book still floating in the air and waving it at him. “A Sorcerer looking for help with a cosmic entity? Sounds like something a Sorcerer Supreme should handle.”

   Stephen rolled his eyes. “Which is why he came to me.”

   It was only then he saw the glint of amusement in the other man’s eye and Stephen deflated. “You already talked to him didn’t you.”

   Wong shook his head. “No, he was asleep but with the power I sensed coming from him I thought I should check in on your guest when I arrived.”

   “How nice of you.”

   Wong shrugged. “So, what does he-” a pause and his head tilted slightly. “or you? Want help with exactly.”

   Stephen shook his head. “He said we have resources here that he doesn’t have there to figure out what the entity he found is and how to kill it.”

   Wong’s expression grew serious. “When did he get here.”

   Stephen frowned at him. “Last night.”

   “You didn’t ask to many questions, right? Stephen you know how delicate time travel can be. Too much information about one’s future could be disastrous-”

   “I swear I heard this lecture just before I left.”

   Both men turned swiftly toward the entryway where Strange stood. He had changed into one of Stephen’s wraps, though they were noticeably loose around his frail form, the Cloak almost engulfing him where it was perched on his shoulders. Despite that he looked better, the dark circles under his eyes had abated some, he had clearly showered off the dirt and sweat, the grey stood out all the more starkly in the damp air. His expression too was somewhat lighter as he smirked at Wong.

   Wong simply offered his signature glare. “Well dammit.”

   “What?” Stephen asked.

   Wong spared him an annoyed glance. “I’m going to be cleaning up your messes well into old age, aren’t I?”

   It startled a laugh form both Stephen and Strange who both stopped abruptly at the odd echo it caused between them.

   Wong just shook his head. “Alright, lets handle this quickly. Both of you have zero impulse control and I fear for the timeline if you are here too long.”

   Stephen couldn’t really disagree, he motioned for Strange to explain and took a moment to sit on the sofa, allowing himself a moment to relax his tired mind. It didn’t take long for Wong to grab a notepad and begin scribbling a series of books to be examined from Kamar-Taj. Strange for his part took a seat on the arm of the couch, leaning more then anything as he explained what he could to Wong. When they were both done, Wong let out an unimpressed huff.

   “That is not a lot to go on.”

   Stephen for his part had been thinking it over for awhile, Strange’s words and the brief vision that he’d seen. “You said it was familiar?”

   Strange turned to him with a little smile. “Yes. It was the energy I felt from the creature that was the most recognizable.”

   “Why here? Why now?” Stephen asked.

   “Careful.” Wong murmured.

   Strange’s expression faltered for a moment, his eyes grew blurry as he stared into the distance at something only he could see. “I’m not sure. Magic has become so instinctual, I let it take me wherever it needed. This must be around the time I last recalled the feeling that creature gave me.”

   “That…” Stephen paused. “Is really stupid.” He decided.

   Strange levelled a heavy gaze on him, far to old and wise. It left the strangest uneasy feeling going through him. “I forgot how uninspired I used to be.”

   Wong snorted.

   Stephen shot him a betrayed look, but before he could say anything Strange continued. “You still treat magic like the surgery, actions to be done, procedures to follow in order to achieve result. We were brilliant surgeons, but we rarely relied on instinct, its what kept us from real greatness in that field. But you’ll learn it in time with magic, that in order to properly become one with the energy flowing through this earth, this Sanctum, you must first stop using it, and let it use you from time to time.”

   “Wow.” Wong said, sounding properly astonished. “So, you _do_ listen during my lectures.”

   Strange shot him a smile. “Only about half the time.”

   Wong’s demeanor quickly shifted into one of disapproval, his usual essentially. He ripped the page from the little notebook and shoved it into his pocket, “I will go retrieve these books. You two need to try and identify why the energy signature was familiar.” His gaze turned stern, pointing at Stephen. “Do not ask questions.” He turned to point at Strange. “Do not share more then absolutely necessary.”

   They both saluted the man, eerily in sync. Wong disappeared through a portal with another huff.

   Strange went to sit on a chair to the side, his dark eyes on Stephen. It was odd to experience an uncomfortable silence with yourself, in many ways this older version was a complete stranger. Yet, obviously he could recite his life story up to a point and describe is every feeling on the matter, which was an intimacy too charged to acknowledge at the moment.

   Strange ended up being the first to speak. “Is Tony gone?”

   Stephen nodded. Their conversation had been on his mind all night, as well as the image of the ring currently hidden beneath Strange’s clothes. At this point it was burned into his memory and he yearned to see it for real, to hold it and examine it. But as if sensing just that, his hand came up again to pat the spot absently.

   His gaze had gone faraway once more, hazy and a small, sad smile appeared on his face. “I wish…” he murmured.

   “Don’t.” Stephen said quickly, already hating himself as he did so. He pretended to stare at his hands, clenching and unclenching them as he spoke. “I’ve already gathered I don’t have the happiest future, which can only mean something happened with Tony.” He took a deep breath. “But you said he is alive, which is enough for me. Let’s not tempt either of us by finishing your thought ok?”

   Strange’s expression had turned solemn as he gave a curt nod. “Of course. Sorry lost track of myself for a moment.”

   “I do have another question, though.”

   Strange smirked. Neither of them intended to follow Wong’s instructions to the tee. “Go ahead.”

   “The Eye. Where is yours?” Stephen waved his hand at where his own was seated comfortably around his chest. “How did you get here without it?”

   Strange winced. “There are other ways then the Eye, other relics and spells. Just not as reliable. Its perfectly safe, but unfortunately not in my possession any longer.”

   A dozen more questions crowded into his head, but none of them were acceptable to ask without revealing too much. Instead Stephen nodded in acceptance, hands fiddling in his lap, only for him to realize Strange was doing the same. He sighed and stopped.

   “Alright, I didn’t find much of anything here last night. At least nothing familiar dealing with cosmic forces.”

   Strange frowned. “I was going with a cosmic entity because of what it looked like, less how it felt.”

   Stephen shook his head. “How did it feel then? I couldn’t get anything from the vision, it was too second-hand.”

   His eyes fluttered closed, he took a deep breath through is nose and held for a moment. He almost seemed to glow, and Stephen couldn’t help but lean forward in fascination, only for it to quickly dissipate as he released the breath.

   His eyes remained closed as he spoke. “Like I could feel the earth itself. The power held vibrations that moved through me but still felt completely grounded, I couldn’t tell who was giving who power. The creature to the earth or the earth to the creature.”

   He opened his eyes to look at Stephen expectantly, he just stared. “That…does not sound familiar at all.”

   He rolled his eyes. “Are you sure?”

   “Yes, actually.”

   Strange groaned in annoyance. “Let’s start with whatever forces you’ve felt before, the most powerful in recent memory to begin, maybe we’ll draw a connection.”

   Stephen opened his mouth to comment that he thought it was very unlikely only to freeze at the sound of an awed gasp. Both men turned toward the noise and froze upon seeing Peter standing there wide-eyed, gripping his backpack in one hand and his spider-suit in the other. His eyes were darting between the two men and his expression turned more excited by the moment.

   Strange sighed. “Well done Stephen, we’re two for three so far.”

   “I forgot to text him. I was up all night if you remember and am a bit tired.” Stephen said defensively.

   “Uh Dr. Strange?” Peter was still staring at them.

   Stephen ran a hand through his hair. “Peter now is really not a good time.”

   Peter ignored him, coming closer and examining Strange with eager eyes until he was only a few feet away. “Are you from the future?!”

   Strange offered a surprisingly weak smile, in fact he almost looked ill as he avoided Peter’s gaze. “Yes, but not far enough to be interesting I’m afraid.”

   Peter turned back to Stephen with a wide grin. “Whoa.”

   The childlike enthusiasm on his face made Stephen smile, unable as ever to remain stern with the kid even when he was acting like an idiot. Unfortunately, before he could speak up Peter turned back to Strange and as was his habit began to speak a mile a minute.

   “How far in the future are you from? Do we have proper hoverboards yet? What made you come back to now? Are you allowed to talk about it? Has there been a World War III? Have we colonized a planet yet? Did I end up going to college? Cause I really can’t decide-”

   “ _Peter.”_ Stephen snapped.

   The flow of words stopped abruptly, and an embarrassed blush spread across his cheeks. He could see the moment he remembered that he was speaking to a version of Stephen and not a random visitor from the future.

   “Sorry Dr. Strange.” It seemed to be addressed to them both. “I was just really excited! I’ve never met a time traveller.”

   “Its alright Peter.” Strange spoke quietly, his smile turning decidedly sad as he gazed at the boy with surprisingly warm eyes. Something twisted harshly in Stephen’s stomach.

   He cared deeply for Peter, it was in no small part because of Tony of course who had nothing but praise for the kid, when he wasn’t annoyed of course. Peter had quickly become a natural feature in his life and eventually they had transitioned beyond their mutual relationships with Tony to something just for them. Peter had an incredibly inquisitive mind and he showed a refreshing interest in both magic and science, much to Tony’s chagrin. Now, however, for the first time Stephen viewed their acquaintance through a new light, one in which Peter had been slowly coming to rely on him more for information, in battle, in life. He had become one of Peter’s mentors. His mind travelled back to the night before and Strange’s surprise that Peter would not already be in the Sanctuary and his heart constricted tightly.

   “Peter,” Stephen said stiffly, drawing the kid’s attention. “We are working on a bit of a time constraint right now. You can stay but if you would provide us with some privacy that would be appreciated.”

   Peter’s brow furrowed with disappointment. “I can help if you want! I’ve already finished all those books you gave me-”

   “This is far more advanced then that. Please Peter, I won’t ask again.”

   He slumped but wasn’t offended. Stephen had drawn clear lines when it came to his presence in the Sanctuary and his magical duties. He shifted his backpack more securely onto his back and offered Strange a little smile. “It was nice to meet you I guess.” He then trudged toward the kitchen where he usually did homework on Saturday mornings before excitedly running around looking at books and relics or attending to his Spider-man patrols.

   Strange’s eyes watched him go, still sad but now also regretful. Stephen swallowed thickly around the oddly nauseous feeling rising up in him, but before he could ask the question burning inside him Strange spoke first.

   “You should send him home.”

   Stephen raised an eyebrow. “Why? He won’t bother us. Won’t even eavesdrop because he’ll feel too guilty.”

   Strange looked into his eyes, his own were swirling with sadness and pain, he titled his head meaningfully. “He should spend more time with Aunt May, spending time with loved ones is very important.”

   Stephen’s breath stuttered to a stop as he stared at Strange. Things clicked horribly into place and Stephen’s eyes began to burn, couldn’t help himself. “You shouldn’t-”

   “I don’t think it would change much.” Strange cut him off, his eyes looking into the distance again. “He regretted it so much.” He murmured.

   “ _Stop_.” Stephen snapped for the second time this morning, squeezing his eyes shut.

   Stephen struggled to control his breathing for a moment, so tired and terribly overwhelmed. Of course, Peter would move in here, especially if Tony was already living with him, he wouldn’t have anywhere else to go.

   “I’m sorry.” He sounded genuinely apologetic and Stephen’s eyes snapped open. “Regret is one of the worse things someone can feel, we know that better then anyone. I hated seeing him like that.”

   Stephen wiped at his eyes angrily, it was easier to be mad then feel the anguish twisting his gut. “We aren’t supposed to do this,” he said tightly.

   Strange offered a small, amused smirk. “Trust me I wouldn’t have said anything if I thought it would be catastrophic for the timeline. You know that as well as me, we both would do the same.”

   Stephen stared at the man for a moment, heart pounding in his chest, mind spinning unbearably. Then finally, “wait here.”

   Before he could overthink it, Stephen stood on shaky legs and made his way to the kitchen, swallowing back the persistent nausea that just wouldn’t leave. He found Peter seated at the kitchen table, headphones on and head bopping slightly to the music as he wrote in a notebook. Unbidden a grainy image Peter crying and screaming in pain and grief washed through him, imagined him standing in front of a coffin, losing everyone. It was so bloody unfair, Peter deserved it least of all, and that was why the urge came over him, nearly unbearable in its intensity, to march over to Strange and demand details so he could change it.

   A deep shaky breath. He couldn’t do that, they couldn’t. His hand came up to grip the Eye hanging around his neck, tried desperately to recall his responsibility, to hold time in the palm of your hand was not meant to be easy, he knew it as well as his future self.

   He walked over swiftly, needed to get this over with quickly, and tapped the counter. Peter had already sensed him of course, his spidey senses useful like that. He pulled off his headphones and levelled him with a concerned look that threw Stephen off for a moment.

   “Dr. Strange?” he inquired. “Are you alright?”

   “Yeah Peter I’m Ok.”

   He nodded. “It must be weird to meet yourself from the future. And you not even being able to tell yourself stuff would be awful.” He mused.

   Stephen stared at him, always amazed by how astute his observations could be. “Yes, I suppose. We are trying to get it done quickly.”

   Suddenly Peter looked up at him with a strange expression, it almost seemed sad and that punched Stephen right in the gut. “The old Dr. Strange doesn’t seem very happy…I hope everything is alright for you.”

   If Stephen didn’t know any better, he would think that Peter was fishing for information but as it was the sincere expression on the kid’s face meant exactly the opposite. He was genuinely worried, and Stephen couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh.

   “Me too really, but don’t worry things are always changing.” Stephen winced through the lie. “But listen this is going to be a difficult assignment we are working on, so I was thinking we take a rain check. Head home maybe spend the day with Aunt May.”

   Peter’s face morphed into confusion. “But I always come on Saturdays.”

   Stephen bit his lip, wanted to control the tremor in his voice before he spoke again. “Exactly, you haven’t spent time with her in awhile, it will make her day Peter. You know how  she worries about you.”

   Peter scratched his head for a moment before nodding slowly, he wasn’t quite able to hide his disappointment, however, as he gathered his stuff. Stephen watched in silence, hated Strange sitting in the other room for revealing that much. It was an odd sensation yet again, to hate himself now, but knowing in the future he would deem it worthwhile.

   It wasn’t long until Peter was gone with an awkward wave and anxious backwards glances. Stephen found himself standing in the kitchen counting his breaths in his head. He allowed himself a solid three minutes before he shut his brain down. It was time to stop being Stephen, he needed to be a Sorcerer Supreme now.

   He walked into the living room to find Strange having gone into a similar state of preparedness. He offered Stephen a tight smile, “Well that’s at least three hours gone in total this morning.”

   Stephen nodded once, short and curt as he took his previous seat. “Let’s get this over with. Where were we?”

   It was spectacular how they were both able to shut things away with the flip of a switch even when facing each other, who knew every emotion and thought. Stephen couldn’t decide if it was healthy or not, but then again looking at Strange it looked like a skill he would need to learn to embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would love to hear people's thoughts!
> 
> Next chapter is going to be long and brutal. It might take a smidge longer since it is emotionally difficult to write, please have patience :)


	3. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen finds out was Strange was hiding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about how long this took. Life decided I needed a beating and well, this chapter proved to be therapeutic.  
> I hope everyone enjoys, its mega-sized to hopefully make up for it a bit :)

   Two hours past surprisingly quickly. It hadn’t taken long for Stephen and his older self to develop a rhythm in which it felt more as though they were talking internally then bouncing ideas of each other. Unfortunately, as they sifted through all of Stephen’s recent encounters they seemed to move no closer to an answer, with either Stephen insisting it hadn’t felt special or Strange arguing that certain beings were simply not that powerful.

   If Stephen was honest, he suspected his older self had made a mistake coming back to this particular time. He was no more capable of solving the mysterious energy then Strange had been back in his own time. No, he had a different theory, all the man’s talk of letting the magic guide him might be true, but certainly not in this case. Stephen was fairly confident this destination had been unconscious and the turning in his stomach alerted him that it might be because this moment time was the last malleable point for their rocky future.

   The growing frustration by Strange also hinted that he was coming to a similar conclusion as well. Wong had dropped off several books for the men but left nearly as quickly to attend to his duties in Kamar-Taj, though Stephen had no doubt he would find a way to pop in again with his familiar scrutinization in order to make sure they were not discussing the timeline.

   He was pretty sure Wong would blow a fuse if he had overheard the implications about Peter, Stephen was pretty shaken himself. He was equal parts angry and grateful for the warning, it had never occurred to him that he had been stealing time from the kid that was more valuable to another and he should have. Still it hung over him like a thunderous cloud, yet another boulder added to the delicately balanced weight on his shoulders.

   Suddenly there was a loud _thump_ as Strange slammed down the book he had been studiously reading for the past ten minutes. “This is a waste of time!” he growled.

   Stephen watched calmly from where he was floating just above the sofa, mind hazy from exhaustion. When Strange glared up at him with obvious expectation he just shrugged. “Probably.” He offered.

   Irritated Strange sunk into the chair he was still occupying, face pinched as he thought about something.

   Stephen knew his older self had a plan of some sort, one he was obviously hesitant to suggest. That look had appeared periodically for the past hour and a half that they’ve been working which meant it was likely a bad idea. But if Stephen knew himself, which he did, it was also going to work, so he waited, allowing Strange to take the lead with this.

   “I don’t think my description is getting across. Its hard to understand the power that came from it, the way it was like the heartbeat of the earth.” Strange offered, fingers twisting and untwisting a frayed corner of his Cloak.

   Stephen couldn’t help himself. “You would think that kind of thing would be memorable.”

   Strange shot him a dark look, but it was far less intimidating when it was your own face doing it so he just smirked. “The only solution then-”

   A shrill ringing cut the man off. It was Stephen’s cellphone. Tony had clearly carried it downstairs with him that morning as was his habit and left it in the kitchen. Stephen held up a hand to tell Strange to hold his thought which he did with a frown.

   The Cloak let Stephen down gently and he took his time going to retrieve it. He knew it was Tony, his lover usually called at least once a day. It was progress, after Titan he used to call nearly six times daily whether it be due to panic attacks or some itch to check up on him. This would be his daily check-in.

   Sure, enough as he retrieved it the screen warned him that he missed Tony’s call. Stephen swiped the phone and felt his brows furrow in confusion at the series of text messages there. Tony had texted him not five minutes ago, and the moment he opened one he groaned at his own stupidity. Stephen wasn’t the only one Tony played mother hen to, he checked in on Peter just as often and it appeared he had spilled the beans on his time travelling self to Tony.

   Resigned he called Tony, already feeling a slither of dread go up his spine. He picked up on the first ring.

   “I am so mad at you.”

   Stephen winced. “I love you too.”

   “Don’t be cute.” His tone was aggravated but the undercurrent of relief gave Stephen hope.

   “So, do you want to explain what Peter meant by the fact he got to meet a you from the future but you from the now wouldn’t let him have any fun?”

   Stephen paused. “He said I wouldn’t let him have any fun?”

   “No, but its implied knowing you.”

   “Wow, rude Tony.”

   “That didn’t sound like an answer to my question.” His voice had shifted to one of exasperated irritation.

   Stephen sighed. “There isn’t much to explain. My future self needed a hand with something and that’s what I’m doing.”

   Incredulous silence.

   “We said no lies Stephen.”

   He snorted, a reaction that was definitely unwise, but he blamed on his tired mind. “The only lie I told you was that I’d get some sleep today.”

   His tone darkened. “Right, not the nightmares, not the projects you needed to do today, not when I checked to make sure we had no visitors last night.”

   Stephen sat on one of the stools feeling decidedly drained and not in the mood to have this argument _right now_. “As far as I’m concerned this count as a nightmare, last I check this is also a project, and this visitor was myself so not like it was a stranger.”

   He didn’t realize how much had slipped out until he heard the quiet intake of breath on the other end of the line. He could practically feel Tony shift from pissed off to concerned, it was utterly hateful at the moment. He couldn’t deal with himself and Tony all at once.

   “I’m coming over. Something isn’t right with you.”

   Stephen took a deep breath. He was petitioning for a quick nap after this, he couldn’t manage late nights like his old med-school days. “No, you are not.” He said calmly.

   “Wasn’t asking love.”

   “Neither am I.” He heard the beginning of a protest, but Stephen rushed ahead to cut him off. “Why do you think I didn’t mention him to you?”

   A pause. “Because you are stubborn and like to deal with things yourself.”

   Uh. He wasn’t wrong, it was a pet peeve of Tony’s for awhile now. It also wasn’t the right answer though. “I didn’t tell you because time travel is complicated and the last thing I need is for you to ask something, say something that makes the other me reveal too much. Its for the best that this remains contained to me and him.” He chose to leave out Wong, knew Tony wouldn’t take to kindly to that.

   Quiet, then low and almost a little scared. “Peter said the older you seemed miserable, he said the future doesn’t look all that bright for you.”

   Stephen swallowed thickly. “I don’t know the future and neither does Peter. At the moment, yes I don’t appear to be all that happy with it.”

   He could feel the curiosity across the line, in his mind he saw Tony’s brain swirling with questions, his expression turning pensive like it always did when he thought hard about something.

   “See?” Stephen murmured. “It would drive you crazy not being able to ask questions and that’s why I need you to stay away until this is dealt with.”

   “And you?” Tony asked, “Isn’t it making you crazy?”

   Stephen glanced at the doorway, mind wandering to Wong’s claim they have no impulse control. It wasn’t wrong, but he already got a handful with the admission about Peter. “Yes.” He admitted. “But I also try to remember that I might regret it if I ask.”

   Tony blew a sigh through the phone. “I don’t like it.”

   “I know.”

   “Are you two doing anything dangerous?”

   “Not at the moment. But as always I’ll call you if we do.”

   Tony’s voice dripped with resignation. “I don’t like leaving you alone.”

   “I’m not.” Stephen tried to comfort. “I’m left in my own capable hands.”

   Tony chuckled a little. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

   Stephen smiled even though Tony couldn’t see it. “I love you.”

   “I love you too.”

   “I promise to be careful.”

   “You better.” Suddenly Tony’s tone brightened, familiar intrigue slipping into his voice. “Hey, can you take a picture of him? I want to know what I have to look forward to.”

   Something twisted in Stephen’s gut. “Maybe later, we’re a bit busy at the moment.” He tried and likely failed to keep his voice light.

   Hearing Stephen’s own dower tone seemed to bring him down a little. “Ok, we’ll talk later?”

   “Of course.”

 

 

   Stephen hung up the phone feeling infinitely better. He left it on the counter and made his way back to the living room where he found Strange with his eyes closed and expression pained. His hands clenched and unclenched in their familiar nervous habit and the Cloak seemed similarly agitated in the subtle vibrations running through it. Stephen didn’t need to be a genius to know the man had somehow heard most of his conversation. It was obvious by now that Tony was a trigger of a sort for his older self, and he had to physically force the questions back down his own throat as he went to retake his seat on the sofa.

   Stephen gave them both one small moment to focus and get it together. The second Strange’s eyes opened he ignored the shine there and moved ahead. “You had a plan?”

   Strange nodded stiffly. “It involves more time-travel.”

   “Naturally. Not like we haven’t been playing with fire already.”

   He titled his head down toward the Eye hanging comfortably around Stephen’s neck. “At least if _you_ make any mistakes, all it will take is a moment or two to reset.”

   Stephen blinked at him slowly. “Me?”

   Strange rolled his eyes. “Don’t be dense. We need to identify the power source and descriptions aren’t doing it. That means we need you to go and see it for yourself, it’s the fastest and easiest way.”

   “You could try going to a different time, to a Stephen that actually knows what you are talking about.”

   Strange shook his head, a muscle in his jaw jumping with obvious irritation. “That would take too long, I _know_ this will work, we just need to jog your memory.”

   Stephen felt himself flush, an unbearable crawling moving across his skin, a sensation that was common when he subconsciously reached out to magic. He clenched his own jaw, closed his eyes against the glare of his other self and took two, steady, deep breaths.

   “That will get easier. Its only volatile for now, so soon after Titan.”

   Stephen cracked an eye open, “Its been a year and a half.” He muttered.

   Strange shrugged. “Relatively soon. Other things will take its place in time.”

  “Promise or warning?”

   Something in the other man’s expression cracked slightly, guilt flashing through his eyes like a death sentence. “preparing.” He offered.

   Stephen swallowed thickly. “Right.” He tried to get them back on track. “How long will this take?”

   Strange sat a little straighter himself, ran a hand through his peppery hair, suddenly looking so much older. “Not long. Could be ten to twenty minutes. I’ll just need to work out the…travel details.”

   Stephen nodded. “I examine it, make a connection, come back, and we find away to destroy it.”

   Strange smiled slightly. “Simple.”

   Stephen smirked in return. “Probably not going to work.”

   “Our plans rarely do.”

 

 

   In the end Strange recruited Wong to help him figure out dates and exact timing. It was too risky for Stephen to be involved, the less information he had the better. He elected to take a quick nap instead, travelling would require power, let along facing the creature, even with the wards up, it was best he recharge.

   Stephen stumbled into his bedroom with bleary eyes, feeling physically and emotionally drained. He made his way to the bed, the Cloak fluttering ahead to adjust the comforters which Tony hadn’t bothered with making. Stephen nodded gratefully before faceplanting on top the sheets. He breathed in deeply, his nose filling with the familiar smell of Tony, which was always distinctly mechanic in nature with the scent of oil and metal, and in this case spice from the cologne he wore yesterday. Instead of the usual comfort that smell brought him, Stephen found tears pricking his eyes as his mind swirled with the revelations Strange had given up.

   Stephen found his trembling fingers twisting in the sheets beneath him, the urge to scream welling up inside. He reached up and yanked Tony’s pillow into his arms, coming up on his knees and shoving his face into it he did just that. He screamed as loud as he could for a solid minute, knew he wouldn’t be disturbed. For that entire minute his mind was blissfully clear, tears had spilled out drenching the fabric, saliva from his open mouth dampening it as he slumped, his body going from tense and angry to utterly devastated in a moment. It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do.

   He laid himself flat then, stared resolutely at the curtain covered window while he absently clenched and unclenched his now sore hands. He didn’t dare close his eyes just yet, knew the only thing waiting for him was visions of Aunt May dead, Peter heartbroken, whatever horrors his mind made up about Tony in the future. It would all be terribly unbearable, but he didn’t bother fighting sleep, it would be pointless, all he wanted was to forget about the him downstairs with his scars and grief and cryptic promises of a broken future. As he continued his blank vigil, Stephen felt the Cloak settle on him once more, tightening in familiar comfort, the collar slipping forward to wipe at his cheeks. Stephen allowed one hand to rest just under him, against his chest, imagining there was a ring of metal underneath that could offer him a different kind of solace.

 

 

   Tony had a horrible track record of doing what he was told. It generally worked out well for him, or at least it used to. Since being with Stephen he had discovered boundaries were apparently an important part of a relationship. Not that he hadn’t had that with Pepper, but that had been different, boundaries had been the divide between boyfriend and company, everything else had been forfeited long before they were ever a couple. Stephen on the other hand wanted things slow, wanted them both to have space. It was the smart move, but that didn’t mean Tony liked it, _at all_.

   Which is why he knew Stephen was going to be pissed when he showed up at the Sanctuary. He had hung up with the full intention of listening to Stephen and maybe just calling in a check-in later, but his mind stayed on the conversation, on the revelation that there was another Stephen currently sitting in the Sanctuary, older, and knowing.

   It was downright maddening and it hadn’t taken long for the paperwork to blur into unreadable mush, brain spinning mechanically as he thought. He wouldn’t deny that his motivations included curiosity so strong that it left a familiar sting of adrenalin running through him at the possibilities, but that wasn’t all.

   The adrenalin was dampened with a heavy dose of apprehension after speaking to his lover. Something had been off about him, beyond obvious exhaustion. He had sounded rung out in the worst kind of way and he couldn’t imagine what would have influenced him like that. As it was he did not handle the double shot of concern, and curiosity well which meant it was really inevitable that he would show up, check-in, offer help.

   With the thought planted firmly in his mind Tony stood from his desk, quickly gathered the documents together so they could be sent to someone else for signing and asked FRIDAY to cancel his obligations for the day. The Avengers wouldn’t be happy, but Tony is fairly confident this is more important anyway.

   Five minutes later and he was in his suit, well on his way to the Sanctuary and shutting down the barrage of phone calls that was utterly unnecessary. Instead he made one for himself, figured the least he could do was give Stephen a heads up. It rang several times and Tony was prepared to settle for an unexpected visit when it was finally answered.

   “Stark? Stephen is asleep I suggest calling back in thirty minutes.”

  “Wong?”

   “Obviously.”

   Tony blinked a few times, trying to focus. It was a lot more nerve-wracking explaining himself to Wong. “Actually, I’m on my way over right now.”

   A loud sigh of exasperation came through the line in a staticky huff. “Of course, you are. Not like the great Tony Stark can keep his nose out of anything. God, forbid he actually try to preserve the timeline by staying away for one bloody day.”

   Tony grinned even though Wong couldn’t see it. “I knew you’d understand! Mind explaining that to Stephen for me?”

   Silence. Then. “I hate you Stark.”

   “There is no higher compliment.” Tony stated solemnly.

   “When you get here go straight up stairs. You will not ask our time traveller questions, you will not inquire so much as his name, you will not touch, or preferably open your mouth at all.” There was a click and line went dead.

   Tony frowned, confused by the direction. He understood the fragility of timelines, he wasn’t an idiot no matter how ignorant he pretended to be about magic, but Wong’s words seemed a little excessive, especially if Stephen was able to hold entire conversations with himself.

   Tony landed not long after on the front steps of the Sanctuary. The suit slowly retracted back into place at his chest and for a moment he just stood there staring at the ornate doors, heart beating a wild rhythm in his chest, filled with anticipation and anxiety. He entered quietly, hoping that Stephen wouldn’t be alerted to his presence since Wong was there, and usually monitored the wards.

   The moment he stepped in Tony froze. He was in the entrance, not having moved toward the staircase yet when he heard voices, achingly familiar. It was Wong and who he assumed had to be the Stephen from the future, their voices carrying out from the sitting room in mild argument. Tony found himself staring at the staircase in front of him, grimacing as he listened. He couldn’t do it, he really couldn’t. He cast his eyes toward the doorway and wondered if he would be able to just get a peek. He was dying to know what Stephen looked like, but more importantly, he wanted to see for himself the claims Peter had made.

   Before he overthought it, Tony stepped gently toward the sitting room, his steps slow and carful so that he wouldn’t tap on the hardwood. He made it up to the entry and leaned on the wall a moment, listening and preparing to glance inside when their words caught his attention.

   “But if he _does_?” Wong asked, tone a familiar disapproval.

   “He won’t. The clearing is in the middle of a forest, not even near a hiking trail. He won’t run into a soul and even if he did, he could portal away for a minute.” Stephen’s voice, though Tony knew it wasn’t really him, even if the deep baritone and irritated lilt were identical.

   There was silence for a moment and Tony thought they had finished, until a distinct groan filled the void. “Seriously Wong, it will be fine cut out the look.”

   “You have already messed with the fabric of time enough, I simply think there has to be a better way then risking it further by sending Stephen to an abysmal future.”

   Tony’s brow furrowed, his interest peaking.

   “How did you know?” petulant and unhappy.  

   Wong snorted, though he sounded anything but amused. “You say that like I don’t spend nearly seven hours a day with you. I saw the look on Stephen’s face when he went to nap, it was the distinct look of a man that knows far too much for his liking.” A pause. “In the same vein I knew the moment I met you that things are not all that grand for you, whenever you are from.”

   “Yes, well we can’t all have what we want.”

   “Can’t you?” There was thinly veiled accusation in Wong’s voice and Tony decided he had heard enough.

   He was impulsive and would readily admit it got the better of him in that moment. His stomach had twisted sickly and he was suddenly marching into the room, causing the two men who were seated at the small oak table near the window to tense and their heads to snap up. Tony hadn’t thought about what he would say, he had been overcome with the urge to see this Stephen, to understand what had apparently gone wrong.

   Instead of making one of his dramatic declarations, however, Tony found himself frozen yet again, heart doing a painful somersault as everything in the room seemed to stop and drag on in the worst way. Wong and Stephen were silent, clearly surprised and unsure how to respond, while Tony for his part drunk up the appearance of their time-traveller, feeling worse by the second.

   He looked…tired and worn out. His hair had turned almost completely grey and Tony spared a thought for how nice it looked on him, before his eyes were drawn downward, stuck on the scar marring his face, clearly deep and still tinted red though it was obviously an old injury. He didn’t dare let his brain linger on that and raised his eyes again, noting the wrinkles, and the grey goatee, until finally he looked into the other man’s wide, uneasy eyes. They looked exactly the same, and Tony let out a low, relieved exhale.

   Stark what are you doing?” Wong had stood and was glaring at him.

   Tony swallowed, thickly. “Got turned around.”

   Wong rolled his eyes hard. Stephen, however, was still seated and looking a little nauseous, hands trembling in their usual way as he tugged anxiously on the edge of the Cloak. Tony was more shocked to see it appeared to be just as thin and worn as Stephen.

   Tony took a deep breath, still ignoring Wong and decided to address Stephen, mind painfully split between recognizing him as his boyfriend and realizing he was essentially a stranger. “Well, its nice to meet you I guess. Must say you are looking good for your age.”

   Wong groaned, but only the smallest of smiles hinted at the corner of Stephen’s mouth, his face still twisted in discomfort. “Tony, we’re a little busy. Usual end of the world type threat. I think you should go wake me.” He spoke quietly, and his eyes darted away, looking anywhere but at him.

   Tony found himself analyzing the man, hating how utterly wrong-footed he felt. It was just too strange to have someone who looked just like his lover, older but still, just sitting there and being unable to feel their usual chemistry. He opened his mouth to respond when his quick scan of the man made him pause, eyes fixated on his hand. Tony stepped forward but stopped at the wince from Stephen, he swore he was just sucker punched. He pushed ahead regardless, eyes still stuck, mind whirring with the need to make connections.

   “No ring?” It was the first to slip out, unintentionally. It was the fact that Stephen’s fingers were bare that caught his attention, the element that was not computing at the moment.

   “Stark cut it out.” Wong warned.

   Tony waved a hand at him flippantly. “He doesn’t have a ring, he should have one.” He tilted his head at Stephen in question. “Did you say no?”

   Stephen for his part had paled, a trembling hand pushing through his peppery hair, while the other pressed to his chest absently. “No.”

   Tony sighed in relief.

   “If you don’t both shut up right this instant I am portalling you into a dungeon Stark, don’t test me.”

   Tony shook his head. “We both I know I was going to propose. Its only _our_ Stephen who doesn’t.”

   Wong threw his hands up in exasperation. “You don’t even live together yet!”

   Tony shrugged. “ _soon_. I won’t propose for awhile, something about going slow. But I have the ring ready.” He insisted.

   “You are impossible Stark.”

   He winked before turning his attention back to the older Stephen who was staring at the book on the table like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. It didn’t deter Tony any, “Why aren’t you wearing the ring then?”

   “There is nothing to be said that won’t affect the future.” His voice was low and when he finally looked up to glance at Tony his breath left in a huff at the guilt he saw swirling there.

   Tony frowned, his curiosity scratching at his throat, shadowed only by the urge to comfort the man he loved, so clearly tortured. “You know,” he began, unsure for the first time how his humor would be received. “You could just tell me if you lost it.”

   Before this Stephen could respond there was a sudden, harsh intake of breath and snapped “ _Tony_.”

   All the men twirled toward the angry sound to be met with _his_ Stephen, eyes darkened in fury, face pale and dark bags standing starkly on his weary, exhausted face. It had gone completely silent as though they were children caught by their parents doing something bad. Stephen’s gaze darted to Wong just behind him, accusation obvious but even he didn’t make a sound. Tony shifted uneasily, taking in the state of his lover and finding himself none too pleased about it. He had been right earlier when he claimed Stephen was not himself.

   Stephen took a deep, rattling breath, his eyes flickering shut, and Tony winced. His refusal to meet his eyes was an obvious give away of just how angry he was. “Tony, kitchen _now_.” Yeah, he was definitely in the dog house.

 

 

   Stephen was undeniably pissed off, as he had every right to be. He stood arms folded as Tony lowered his head sheepishly and left the room in silence, while Stephen watched Strange follow his every movement with what had become a familiar sadness. He didn’t have the mind to address Strange just yet, but he did turn to Wong who just lifted his hands up defensively.

   “You know as well as I do that nothing I could have said would stop him from coming.”

   Stephen really wished he had slept longer then an hour. “And what about starting a conversation with the time-traveller?”

   “He’s stubborn and very skillful at distraction.”

   Stephen’s jaw clenched. He turned to march after Tony and demand an explanation, though he had a feeling he knew exactly what he would say. Just as he was about to leave the room Strange’s voice broke the silence.

   “He’s just like I remember.”

   Stephen stiffened, heart beating fast again, the same urge to scream as earlier crawling up his throat. He was saved commenting from Wong.

   “Don’t.” His tone was warning and surprisingly protective.

   Stephen left the room, He needed to focus on one problem at a time. He found Tony leaning against the counter in the kitchen, absently playing with the zipper on his jacket. He hadn’t noticed Stephen yet, but he had to admit as mad as he was, it was kind of nice having him there, just his presence soothed some of his tired mind.

   Tony glanced up and his expression morphed into concern, his eyes sliding up Stephen in obvious assessment, the diagnosis did not look good judging by the concern on his face. Stephen leaned against the wall next to the entrance.

   “Want to tell me why you are here?”

   Tony ran a distressed hand through his hair. “I was worried. Like I said on the phone Stephen, you didn’t sound like yourself.”

   He levelled his gaze on his lover, said nothing, waiting.

   His expression cracked a little, something like shame sliding into the corners. “I…I was also really curious.”

   “Of course, you were.” Stephen said flatly.

   Tony ventured closer, “I’m sorry. Not that I came, but that I didn’t convince you on the phone first.”

   “Basically, you are sorry you didn’t manipulate our conversation earlier to get what you want so you decided to come anyway.”

   Tony narrowed his eyes. “That isn’t fair, and you know it. Plus, from the looks of you I was right, your exhausted and clearly upset.”

   “Yes, well taking lessons from my self I guess.” He snarked.

   “Don’t Stephen. Please.”

   He closed his eyes, raising a hand to shield them for a moment. It was a lot all this, and the lack of proper sleep was doing him in and leaving him scattered brained. Suddenly there was warm hands peeling back his own, a familiar calloused palm being pressed to his cheek, puffs of air ghosting across his face. The other hand slipped into his hair, around the back of his head and tugged gently until Stephen leaned forward enough to let their foreheads touch.

   “Sweetheart. I’m sorry.” It sounded far more sincere and Stephen smiled slightly. “I wasn’t thinking, I just thought time-travel was cool. I should have thought about how difficult it might be for you.”

   He peeled his eyelids back to stare into Tony’s warm, worried eyes. “Thank you.” He murmured.

   He hummed slightly before pulling back to place a delicate kiss on Stephen’s forehead, making the man’s heart swell some. He didn’t remove the hand on the back of his head, instead he slid it down to his nape to play with the little hairs there. “How bad is it?” he whispered.

   “We have a plan for the actual issue he came here for. But its hard.” Stephen admitted for the first time. “I look at him and feel like I have nothing to look forward to, he let some things slip and I can’t get them out of my head, I’m so tired and it’s the strangest thing in the world to not recognize yourself-”

   “Hey.” Tony tapped his cheek a bit while tugging on his hair, earning his attention back. “Its going to be ok. I met him for like two minutes and he might seem miserable, but it could just be the situation, or the pain, we both know how you get.” A light chuckle. “And its never too late to change it, you have a time stone for god’s sake.”

   Stephen nodded weakly for a moment, debating how much to reveal. “I don’t like not knowing. I have a responsibility to protect that timeline though Tony, and I asked him one question-”

   “Which one?” He asked, the usual spark in his eyes, but this time Stephen wasn’t mad.

   “Tony, I don’t think-”

   “If it’s a clue about this apparently unfortunate future or that damn scar I want to know.” His fingers stroked the length of skin on his cheek where the mark was on Strange.

   “What? you didn’t like it? I thought it made me look more badass.”

   “Not funny.” He muttered, glaring at his cheek as though daring it to get injured.

   “I know.” Stephen paused, slid his arms around Tony’s waist and leaned on him a little more heavily. “I asked if you were alive because it was the only thing I could think of that would make me that miserable.”

   “Oh.” Tony had pushed his face into his tunic, sliding his hands down so they were in a proper hug. “What did he say?” he was surprisingly calm, more curious then anything.

   “Yes.” Stephen answered thickly.

   “Unexpected.”

   Stephen rolled his eyes, squeezing his lover a bit tighter. He knew Tony viewed his life as borrowed time since surviving the kidnapping, he didn’t expect to have a long life, but then neither did Stephen.

   “I wonder where I am.” Tony mused, pulling out of his embrace.

   Stephen shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Pondering things when handling time-travel isn’t very wise.”

   Tony did a small two-fingered mock salute. “Yes, sir. No questions, no thinking, got it.”

   Stephen gave a small little laugh.

   Tony grinned, his entire facing lighting up at the sound. “Alright then. What is this plan and what exactly have you two been working on?”

   “Two questions.” He teased.

   Tony rolled his eyes. “But they aren’t about the future.”

   He couldn’t fault him there. Stephen knew at this point there was no getting rid of the man, all he could hope for was to limit the damage. It certainly didn’t help that Strange clammed up around Tony or stared at him with sad guilty eyes. He took the time to explain what they had been researching and the plan of sending Stephen to the future. Tony’s response was predictable, the same whenever he had to disappear for a few days on expeditions to other dimensions. His face paled slightly, his mouth drawing a tight line as he struggled not to interrupt, hands picking at his sleeves.

   “Sounds dangerous.” He muttered.

   Stephen shook his head. “It will be for ten minutes max. We have wards controlling the power source, which I’ll take over when I travel. Its perfectly safe, completely secluded so I won’t have any futuristic confrontations.”

   Tony opened his mouth, intention to protest clear as day when Wong conveniently entered. “We are ready.” He stated.

   Tony looked between them in confusion. “Right now? Already?”

   Stephen snagged his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “We’re on a time limit remember?”

   Tony grimaced but let Stephen lead him from the room. He didn’t bother dropping his hand, his own anxiety had sparked. He was inexplicably nervous to return to Strange’s time, even knowing he wouldn’t meet anything but trees and cosmic entities. He couldn’t help but feel uneasy, his mind having turned the place into a horror show while he slept.

   They found Strange standing in the middle of the room, a piece of paper clenched tightly in his trembling hands. Eyes stared at the page resolutely as they walked in, but Stephen immediately noted the man’s paleness, the way he shifted a foot away when they got too close. Stephen’s heart clenched painfully again. It was utterly detestable, whatever the older him was hiding and it make his skin crawl imagining himself behaving this way over a secret.

   Wong began giving his usual spiel about the dangers of time-travel and how to interact with people, giving a side-eye to Strange the whole time, even though Stephen wasn’t meant to actually run into anyone. Stephen tune him out, choosing instead to focus on the warmth of Tony’s body pressed into his side, and the hand in his. His thumb was running soothing circles over them, and Stephen was grateful he could sense his unease. Meanwhile he also kept an eye on Strange in his peripheral whose gaze hadn’t left Tony since they turned away from him. He could practically feel the guilty longing, and he couldn’t help the urge to pull his lover closer.

   Eventually Wong finished, and Stephen nodded obligingly as though he had listened the who time. He then suggested they leave them to it and Stephen smiled at the disapproving frown on Tony’s face as Wong guided him out of the room after their quick kiss goodbye.

   He turned to Strange. The man would be staying here, working on contingency and scrabbling together ideas on how to destroy the energy source. It wasn’t as though Stephen would be gone long but better safe then sorry. But when he faced him it was to find his older self still staring after Wong and Tony. Stephen couldn’t help himself.

   “You miss him a lot, don’t you?”

   Strange’s stormy eyes met his. “More and more every single day.”

   Stephen knew better, shouldn’t bother opening his mouth. “What did we do to scare him away?”

   His expression turned pitying and wasn’t that the oddest thing? To pity himself. “It wasn’t like that Stephen. That man is loyal to a fault, there is nothing we could have done to make him willingly leave.”

   Suddenly Stephen craved something different, was so tired of the promised heart-break. “What was your happiest memory with him?” he tried to keep the desperation from his voice, needed to know there was something good yet to be had.

   Strange assessed him for a moment, obviously weighing how destructive his answer might be to the timeline. In the end he shook his head a little, “our vows, him slipping this ring,” he patted his chest. “Onto my finger and promising me forever, because in the moment I believed it.”

   Stephen nodded. It would have to be enough for now. “Any last-minute advice? Polluted air? Mutant animals? Stuff like that?”

   Strange smiled at that before it faltered into something graver. “You shouldn’t meet anyone but if you do…just remember we did what we had to.”

   “Not cryptic at all, wow thanks.”

   He rolled his eyes. “Just get on with it.”

 

 

 

   Stephen landed hard, he bent his knees in preparation, but it still caused a sting to travel from his ankles and through his legs. He was in a field it seemed, a nice wide grassy area surrounded by beautiful maple trees. He hadn’t noticed it in the vision Strange had shown him, which was a surprise because it was apparently fall here and the area was filled with a multitude of colours that filled his eyes and made him smile.

   The cool, crisp, fall air was a relief to his exhausted mind. As he breathed deeply it felt like his head was clear for the first time since he was woken by Strange rummaging in the library. The thought sobered him, however, wondering exactly what he and Tony were doing in that moment. In his mind it played out like an interrogation, though his lover was sure to lose in that instance, they both knew better then to mess with the fabric of time, it also helped that Wong would act as a buffer. It would be for the best that he does this quickly.

   Stephen turned in a small circle, his eyes fluttered closed as he tried to sense any power surges coming from the area. It didn’t take long for him to lock onto a subtle vibration in the earth beneath his feet, it was coming from the woods, not far at all. He took a deep breath, prepared himself mentally for the transfer from Strange to himself. He approached the woods, already spotting the cropping of rocks in the rays of light making its way through the treetops.

   As he moved closer something tugged on his memory. On instinct Stephen dropped to his knees not too far away, he pressed his fingers into the dirt, wincing at the throbbing pain in the joints as he did so, and closed his eyes against the wave of energy. It was…familiar in a way, not from the vision but something else. He frowned trying to place the feeling, it couldn’t be anything to extravagant if Strange didn’t remember it.

   He had been on the edge of a meditative state when he heard it. It was a sound that he knew by heart, heard it almost every day usually accompanied by a throaty laugh or commanding voice. His eyes snapped open, head tilting up to spot the humanoid shape flying towards the clearing behind him. Panic swept through Stephen as he recognized the Ironman suit, Strange had said there was no way he would run into Tony here, or anyone for that matter. He stood, eyes darting around the forest wondering if it was possible to hide away unseen, or maybe even make a portal for a few minutes.

   That was when he heard it. The smallest of beeps hindered by distance, another feature Stephen knew by sound alone. He all but groaned as he raised the watch strapped tightly to his wrist. It had a tracker in it, Tony’s idea of course for when they got separated in battle. He hadn’t even considered it would still work ten years later, though he shouldn’t be surprised. Anxiety began to bubble low inside him, his breath coming faster.

   He stood there awkwardly unsure of how exactly to handle this. In theory he could dismantle the watch and portal away, but that would leave Tony in this clearing with a powerful entity and few ways to protect himself, no matter how strong the containment spell. That being said, Stephen would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit he was overcome with curiosity about an older Tony, his looks, his bearing. It was no excuse for risking the timeline for sure, but like he said, it was equally irresponsible to leave him there unprotected. In retrospect he couldn’t be all that mad at his Tony for showing up at the Sanctuary. But he had more reason to be nervous, whatever happened between Strange and Tony obviously didn’t keep the man form investigating.

   Stephen resigned himself to staying, could probably fend off too many questions with ease. After all it was much less exciting to meet someone from your past then it was your future. Soon enough there was the distinct crinkle of stepped on leaves and through the brush Tony’s suit appeared, arms out and blasters ready, face covered and moving slowly.

   The moment he stepped into the little space with the outcropping of rocks he froze, didn’t say anything and Stephen frowned. Maybe not such a good idea after all, he realized for the first time it might be an empty suit. The blasters were still trained on him and Stephen carefully raised his hands, palms out to show no harm, trying valiantly to hide his confusion.

   “Tony if you are in there, I suggest not coming any closer. There is powerful magic here.” He stated carefully.

   Not a second later, the helmet snapped up and disintegrated back into the suit. Stephen’s breath caught, trapped painfully in his chest. It was Tony to be sure, streaks of grey not unlike his own, more laugh lines and wrinkles marring his face, goatee a little thicker then usual, but that wasn’t what made Stephen freeze.

   Tony’s eyes were wide and horrified as they stared at Stephen as though he was looking at a ghost. All the blood had drained from his face leaving him looking pale and sickly, his usually expressive eyes gone glassy and an obvious trembling taking over his body. The blasters dropped, and the entire suit disappeared twice a quickly until he was standing in something similar to workout gear, body as lean and compact as ever. His lips moved silently, his expression slowly crumpling into something like grief as he continued to stare uncomprehendingly.

   The air between them seemed to be sucked thin until Stephen could hardly breath, his own chest heaving as his mind grappled with what was happening in front of him. There was silence but for the quiet shifting of leaves and branches in the slight breeze, it was delicate and painful, and Stephen didn’t know what to do. He knew this man better then he knew himself, yet, looking at him now it was like an invisible chasm separated them defined not just by time, but by trauma. They were practically strangers, and Stephen was beginning to feel a sickening numbness move through him as his brain made connections.

   Finally, Tony stumbled forward a few steps hand stretched out slightly. Stephen couldn’t explain his reaction for the life of him, he found himself stepping back warily a few paces. Tony froze as though terrified of scaring him off. His mouth moved again, no sound emitting from his trembling and chapped lips. This was a broken man, Stephen realized. He had seen Tony like this only once before, when he abandoned him on Titan with the fate of the world weighing him down.

   Then horse and scratchy, “ _Stephen?”_

   Everything in him wanted to demand answers from Tony, from Strange back home. His mind replayed in his head Strange’s carefully blank face when he asked if Tony was alive, the way he drunk in Tony’s presence as though he were starved for it, that careful, weary distance he still kept from the man, the ring he clung to so often as though it was all he had left in the world. Something cracked in Stephen, it pulled and scratched as it drew a ragged path up his center and through his heart leaving a gaping hole of disgusting self-loathing.

   Tony had taken several steps closer now, his eyes were roaming over Stephen’s face like a man dying for a drink in the desert. He saw the moment it clicked in his glassy eyes that Stephen was so much younger then he should be for this time. The moment his heart broke all over again.

   “Stephen?” More tentative this time, his mouth tracing the word like it was bliss just to say it again.

   Stephen swallowed thickly, felt the Cloak tighten around him. Its message was clear, you are here for a mission, get it together. “Hi Tony.”

   It was the dumbest thing he could say, but the look on Tony’s face revealed just how painfully desperate he had been to here him speak again. The trembling in Tony’s body was getting worse, he was still pale as ever and suddenly a sob broke through what must have been iron self-control up until that moment. His arms circled around his waist and he dropped to his knees, body heaving with each breath as he struggled for more air.

   A panic attack. Stephen was at his side in seconds, kneeling beside him was careful not to touch, it would be far to overwhelming given the circumstances. Instead he ducked his head down until he could grab his attention, he reacted instantly, tear-filled eyes locking onto Stephen’s and just like on nights when the nightmares are bad, Stephen carefully exaggerated his breathing, showing Tony what rhythm to follow.

   It took nearly twenty minutes for the man to calm his breathing and for something like coherency to return to his face. Stephen moved back slightly the moment he took control of himself, eyes fluttering closed to collect himself and a lovely blush staining his tanned cheeks. Stephen didn’t know what to say, what to do now. He was never meant to run into this Tony and now he knew why, not because of the timeline, because in this time he thought Stephen was dead.

   “I’m sorry.” Tony, voice thick with emotion still.

   Stephen shook his head, this was all too much. “You have _nothing_ to apologize for.”

   They were both seated on the ground, Stephen had his own wards up to hold back the volatile magic for the moment. Tony was still trying to collect himself, eyes fixed on Stephen as though he feared he would disappear.

   Finally, Stephen cleared his throat, needed to dispel the silence and the raging hatred and misery circling in his head. “I’m from the past as I’m sure you gathered by now.”

   It was Tony’s turn to swallow thickly. “Can I ask when?”

   “Give or take about ten years I think.”

   He watched as the love of his life seemed to reach back that far in his memory, eventually offering him a weak smile. “Around the time we moved in together.”

   Stephen dared to nod his head, eyes on where Tony was absently spinning an identical ring as the one Strange kept on his neck, clearly a nervous habit. He knew this was a bad idea, couldn’t help himself, needed to know how deeply he had betrayed this man. “Can I ask when?” he whispered.

   Tony’s face tightened, eyes drifting away. “two years last week.” He murmured.

   Stephen’s face crumpled though the man didn’t see it. “I’m sorry.”

   Tony picked at the grass near his leg. “It wasn’t you fault.” He paused, a spasm of grief running across his face. “At least I don’t think so.”

   Stephen dared to ask again, scared of pushing the man into another panic attack. “What do you mean?”

   Tears had begun leaking from his eyes again, but he still had some of his colour and the trembling had stopped, he wiped at his cheeks absently. “Nothing, we just…we never got a body. You just disappeared, and Wong said…” he choked on a sob.

   “ _You shouldn’t meet anyone but if you do…just remember we did what we had to.”_

   A new wave of anger washed through Stephen, he closed his eyes against the torrent and the urge to find Strange and strangle him. He couldn’t think of a damn reason why he would do this to Tony, after all the promises he made the man he loved. His hands tightened into fists and it was only a wet laugh that got him to peel back his lids.

   Tony was staring at him again, brows furrowed slightly. His eyes were so soft, too soft for the pain that also swirled within. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you these things I guess,” he waved a hand at Stephen’s chest, where the eye sat. “I don’t want to mess with time and all.”

   The look on his face, however, suggested otherwise. It revealed just how willing he was to tell Stephen everything, defy every single rule organizing the cosmos if Stephen would just give him the go ahead. And that was so like Tony, to ignore the fundamental principles if it meant getting Stephen back, how do you tell him that it wasn’t time that stole his husband away, but the man himself? Still, it was tempting after the past day with Strange and battling the urge to just _know_.

   It cost Stephen dearly to shake his head, to see the exhausted, defeat slide into his eyes. One of Tony’s hands rose slowly, stretching toward Stephen just like the first time, there was an odd faraway look in his eyes as he did so. “I don’t even know if you’re real, you just pop up out of nowhere, could be one of my hallucinations for all I know.” A self-deprecating laugh.

   Stephen’s eyes began to burn. He couldn’t bare this, not this, it was happening too fast. One solid thought slithered into his mind, _he knew Strange knew he would meet him._ Without thinking he reached out and took Tony’s hand. His eyes went wide as he stared at where they touched, his face crumpled as he looked back at Stephen. Tony’s hand was familiar and warm, callouses running along his palm, new and old scars mixing. The Sorcerer didn’t hesitate, he gripped him tight and yanked him forward and into his arms. They were both on their knees, Tony’s arms had a death grip around him, one around his waist, the other gripping his hair tightly. He was pressing every inch of his body against Stephen as though he couldn’t get close enough, Stephen held him as he shook, felt him inhale his scent, and whisper his name over and over again. Tears made there way down Stephen’s own cheeks, but he didn’t dare make a sound, didn’t deserve too. After all he was the one that did this to the love of his life.

   Tony was burying his face in Stephen’s neck now, he could feel his tears on his neck, sliding below his collar as he maintained his hard grip. After a moment he began to feel the wet movement of his lips near his ear as he whispered over and over again in a horrifying grief-stricken voice, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

   Stephen clenched his teeth hard, his eyes squeezed shut tightly as held back his own sobs. He had never been good at seeing Tony in pain and listening to him now tore through his heart in the worst way, the knowledge it was his own fault made his stomach twist sickly with nausea and all he could do was hold him close and listen.

   Tony was still mumbling, almost indiscernible between wet hiccups and gasps, but he could hear his name and I love you over and over. Stephen attempted to sooth him with a gentle hand running up and down his back, the other still holding him steady. Then oh so quietly, “I’m sorry.”

   Stephen couldn’t do it, he pulled back abruptly startling the other man. His eyes were raw, and his face was marred with tear streaks, Stephen wiped at them gently as he held his face between his trembling hands, Tony’s eyes flickered closed for a moment as though savoring the feeling and Stephen’s soul fucking _burned_.

   Stephen’s voice was wreaked as he glared into the other man’s wide eyes. “Do _not_ apologize. You have _nothing_ to be sorry for. _None_ of this is your fault.”

   Something eased in the other man, it was barely noticeable, but Stephen knew this man better then his own reflection, he was older but still the same. His thin fingers came up to wrap delicately around Stephen’s wrists and for the first time it crossed the Sorcerer’s mind that Tony looked old, not physically but mentally. Even his aura was exhausted by life and the ache that moved through Stephen took his breath away.

   Still, Tony’s beautiful glistening eyes looked into his so warmly, _gratefully_ before swallowing hard and nodding his head in a small curt movement. “Ok, ok.” He whispered. “I just…the day you.” A shuddering breath. “I never got to tell you I love you, I never thought I’d get the chance to say it again.”

   Words caught in Stephen’s throat where they seemed firmly lodged for a moment, a painful little lump. He shouldn’t have to do this, shouldn’t have to comfort the man he loved over the loss of his husband, of _him_ , all the while knowing Strange was sitting at home with _his_ Tony. He had never hated himself more, not even when he let half the world die, this perfect beautiful man in his hands deserved so much more. Which is why he forced the words into his mouth and past his lips.

   “Its alright Tony. I would have known, I’ve never had to hear it to know you love me.”

   He nodded weakly, curling into himself some now. He could practically see his brain coming back online. Watched as he wiped roughly at his cheeks, his bright eyes still fixed on Stephen’s face. “This…it’s a lot.” He murmured.

   Stephen understood, wanted to break so desperately but he couldn’t not yet. “If I had known the watch would alert you I wouldn’t have brought it. I’m sorry”

   Tony his hand snapped out to take hold of his wrist gently, the one not adorned by the gift. “No, don’t apologize please…this…its hard…but fuck I missed you so much.”

   Stephen allowed himself to nod, didn’t know if he was about to be sick or not. “Ok, right.” Stephen stood and forced himself not to react to the look of panic that flashed in the man’s eyes. Instead he offered his hand which Tony took gratefully and pulled him to his feet.

   Tony swallowed hard, his eyes roaming beyond Stephen to the rock crop. “You said something about magic?”

   “Still not fond of it I guess?” It slipped out before he could stop it, remind himself that this really wasn’t his Tony.

   Tony’s expression turned bleak, something dark and hateful in his eyes. “No.” he muttered. “Its what stole you from me, just like I always thought it would.”

   Stephen stiffened. Tony beside him seemed to freeze casting worried glances at Stephen but he couldn’t decipher if it was from revealing the future too much, or his reaction to it. This hurt so bad, Stephen could feel his breath coming faster and wasn’t entirely sure if he could avoid a panic attack of his own. The thought of his Tony flitted through his mind again, and that nearly did it. How the hell was he supposed to face him? Knowing what he would do to the man?

   “Stephen?” scared, nervous.

   “Right.” Stephen answered numbly trying to push back the emotions for the moment. “You should probably wait in the clearing then.”

   “No!” Tony said quickly, squeezing his hand. “Its fine I’ll stay.”

   “Right.” He said again, clinging to oblivion. “I’ll need my hand back.”

   He nodded releasing it, only for it to be immediately grabbed by his other, squeezing gently. Seeing the familiar sign of Tony’s PTSD left him dizzy with the connotations about their situation.

   The Cloak gave a curt tug downwards, knocking him roughly back to the task at hand. He wrapped a hand in its corner in thanks, a motion he knew it enjoyed. Taking a deep breath, he ignored the presence behind him and dropped back to his knees and digging his fingers back into the dirt with intent this time.

   It didn’t take long at all, shocking really. He took the time to make sure, scrunching his face up in concentration, mind spinning with memories and connections. _Do the job, do the job_ he repeated to himself over and over, _then kill Strange, force him to explain everything._

   There was a distinct click in his head. Ah that was it, of course. “The Soul Stone.”

   A sharp intake of breath from Tony, and Stephen’s stomach twisted as he opened his eyes, his future self had made quite the mess of things it seemed, and Stephen distinctly felt like he was drowning in it. Wong had been right, ignorance was bliss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things I learned and one that embarrassed me:  
> 1) Pacing still evades me.  
> 2) I love when the boys communicate.  
> 3) I nearly cried when I finally sat down to start writing again cause I missed it so much. 
> 
> I would love to hear people's thoughts it always inspires me to be better :)


	4. Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The timeline must be reset. We were never meant to play with time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Alright listen up please: two new tags were added, self-hatred and self-harm. Self-hatred is pretty self-explanatory, as for self-harm it is between the two Stephens. I put the warning in to be safe so please use your judgement.
> 
> Well this has been a long one, thank you for sticking with me on this angsty ride, please enjoy :)

   “Soul Stone?”

   Stephen stood slowly and turned to Tony with an empathetic nod. He could already see the fear and nervousness sliding into his eyes. He was glaring at the rocks, his hand twitching with the urge to tap his reactor and retrieve his suit.

   Stephen carefully placed a hand on his shoulder. Tony’s gaze snapped to his, still shocked by the touch. “Its alright, I’ll handle it, no need to worry.”

   He nodded curtly. “Right of course.”

   Stephen stared at him for a moment, feeling pain move through him with every beat of his heart. “I have a couple questions if you are willing before I go?”

  Tony’s hand flew up to grip the one still on his shoulder, his face paling at his words. Stephen winced, and Tony immediately slid his hand to his wrist. “I’m sorry.” He murmured.

   “Its ok.” Stephen breathed. He deserved much worse then a bit of sting. “Are you?”

   Tony offered him a queasy smile, the wrinkles popping out more noticeably in the moment, yet he still managed to look inexplicably handsome. “This is a lot to take in. Still not completely convinced you are real.”

   Stephen nodded, swallowing thickly. “Yeah. But…I meant here, at this time in your life.”

   Something horribly devastated slid onto his face and for a minute Stephen feared he was pushing the man back into a panic attack, but he squeezed his wrist. “Fuck, I’m so sorry Stephen. You just found out you are going to die and I’m over here freaking out.”

   Stephen shushed him with a hand pressed to his mouth. “Its ok.” He said again, insistently. At this point he almost preferred that to be the truth over the deception Tony was under. “Please, I need to know.” He tried pleading.

   Tony nodded against his hand, expression still burdened with sadness. Stephen removed his hand, prepared himself to get these answers, they wouldn’t mess up the timeline, but they would determine how badly he was going to beat his future self when he got back. “Are you happy?” he asked again.

   Tony glanced down, uncomfortable. “For the most part…I guess so.”

   Stephen used a finger to lift his face, found himself staring into swirling guilt. He could feel his face crumpling as horrendous pain swept through him. His hands came up to cup either side of his face. “Don’t… _Don’t you dare_ feel guilty for being happy.” He hissed, unable to control himself with the tumultuous emotions rolling inside.

   He nodded, eyes wide and startled. “I know, I’m sorry. Its harder with you standing right here.”

   Stephen released him, didn’t miss the way Tony leaned forward instinctively for his touch. But Stephen wasn’t himself at the moment, distance was the better option, so he kept his hands to himself and took a deep breath. “And Peter?” he asked.

   Tony paled significantly, and Stephen wondered if he was thinking of Aunt May. Tony glanced down, hands fiddling with the ring on his finger again. “He’s…alright. Still being Spider-Man and all, but it was hard…losing-” he took a shaky breath. “We’ve both lost a lot the past couple years Stephen.”

   “I understand.” He murmured. And he did, really. Enough to know that dragging out this torture for the man he loved could only be construed as almost crueller then the actions of his future self.

   Hesitantly Stephen reached a hand out, palm up and open. Tony didn’t even pause, grabbing his hand and letting Stephen pull him into a hard hug. Tony wrapped his arms around his waist and Stephen pressed Tony into his shoulder with a gentle hand to the back of the head, just like before. They stood for several long moments, Stephen allowing Tony to feel himself be held one last time, something he knew the man craved. While he did that, Stephen closed his eyes and tried to focus beyond the warm breath puffing against his neck, the tears that were staining his tunic and shifted Strange’s carefully constructed wards under his own care. It would give them extra time, though Stephen doubted they needed it, a plan already having formed in his head.

   Finally, Stephen loosened his grip, only for Tony to tighten his. “Is it selfish that I want you stay?” he mumbled from where he was still buried against Stephen.

   The sorcerer tilted his head down and pressed a hard kiss to his head, his soul aching at the destruction he would one day cause. “Yes.” He whispered, not angry or accusing just oh so sad.

   Tony pulled back with a wet laugh. Stephen watched as he took a second to pull himself together, saw the transformation before his eyes from Tony his lover to Tony the Ironman and widow. He took a shaky breath, his face pained as he deliberately stepped back from Stephen, breaking their physical contact.

   Stephen found himself immensely grateful, the distance allowing his own mind to clear some, not of the anger or self-loathing, but chaos it had been tossed into. Tony for his part was back to anxiously spinning the wedding ring, a sad little smile on his face. “You were always brutally honest, one of my favourite things about you.”

   Stephen worked hard not to grimace at that. Tony glanced behind him at the rocks again. “You said you would handle the stone but how exactly?”

   “I figured I would simply deal with its existence in my time. It went missing after Titan as we both know, clearly it found itself here the entire time. I’m going to take it out of the equation before it was able to cause any problems.”

   Tony nodded along, understanding dawning on his face. “Won’t that mess up the timeline?” he almost sounded hopeful.

   Stephen shook his head regretfully. “I have an idea for that, but I if I share it-”

   Tony raised his hands, waving them slightly. “Say no more, I get it.” He paused. “You could though, you know? We can handle whatever changes pop up, together.”

   He didn’t know how to tell him that was impossible no matter how desperate he himself was to do just that. But the look on his face must have said it all, because Tony looked away, unable to meet his eye.

   “I’m sorry.”

   “Me too.” Tony murmured.

   Stephen ran a hand through his hair, there was no good way to do this. “I really need to go.”

   Tony swallowed thickly, and when he looked back at him the longing in his eyes made Stephen’s heart skip a painful beat, his eyes burned as he held back his own tears. “Right. Wouldn’t want the other me to worry I guess.”

   Stephen turned, unable to bear anymore and placed a hand on the Eye, his finger rubbing the symbol absently as his body seemed to physically stop him. He closed his eyes, willed himself not to ask, not to make this anymore difficult then it already was.

   But Wong was right, he had always been impulsive. He turned his head a little to glance at Tony over his shoulder. “What is your happiest memory? Of us? I just need to know there is still something to look forward to.”

   Tony’s face crumpled, even as his eyes sparkled with a familiar adoration. “The night of our wedding, when we were finally alone, and we said our real vows to each other. I had never seen you so happy and I realized that it was the only thing I wanted to see for the rest of our lives.”

   Stephen’s breath caught, turned away from the agony on his face. He forced his voice to stay light, even if the tears being held back were evident. “What were my vows?”

   Tony gave a weak chuckle behind him. “Spoilers.”

   Stephen nodded, understood perfectly. “Goodbye Tony. Thank you, for the life you gave me.”

   His hand went to the Eye and just as his ears popped and a familiar sucking pulled at his skin, he heard Tony’s murmured reply.

   “Thank you, love. For giving me this chance to say goodbye.”

 

 

   In the perhaps fifty-two seconds it took to travel back to his own time, Stephen finally let all his anger, disgust, and self-loathing consume him. He let the flame that had been flickering inside him turn to a blaze, using the images of a hurt and broken Tony Stark of the future to act as fuel. The feeling of it was overwhelming and he was so fucking grateful not to think about how much it hurt that he only embraced it.

   When he popped back into his existence, in his time, it was with eyes scrunched tightly closed, his face devoid of colour as he clenched his jaw so tightly his teeth ached. His weak trembling fingers were balled into tight painful fists, and his entire body shook under his iron tight control. He knew, as he always did that in this particular room there was only him and Strange, Tony and Wong were upstairs and could feel the weary aura exuding from the other man.

   “Stephen?”

   That was all it took. Stephen’s eyes snapped opened and released every ounce of self-control, and restraint, and training of his temper. The Cloak, one step ahead of him was off his shoulders fast as a rocket, going right for the older worn Cloak which had just detached itself from Strange, recognizing it was the target.

   Stephen didn’t hesitate to follow up, he swung toward Strange who was staring at him with dead eyes, supremely unsurprised and it was bloody hateful. The rolling flame inside him sprung into a crescendo and Stephen sprung with it, a fist flying straight for Strange’s face. There was the solid, numb _thump_ of impact as his fist connected with Strange, and he didn’t pause, didn’t even react to the stinging pain reverberating through his fingers and up his arm. He followed his older self as he stumbled back, his mind a whirlwind without thought beyond the betrayal playing on loop in his mind. He shoved Strange hard, sending him crashing to the floor easily due to the loss of balance from the punch.

   “ _Coward, selfish, piece of shit_.” He hissed.

   Strange was on the floor looking slightly dazed, but utterly unresponsive to the insults. Instead he raised his head, wiped a line of blood from the side of his mouth and met Stephen’s gaze with daring eyes. “Your right. I’m all of those things. Fucking do it.” He spat.

   Stephen was too overwhelmed to even process the words properly, to realized Strange wasn’t fighting back, or using his magic in any way to defend himself. He was consumed with the disgusting crawling feeling inside himself that came from looking down at Strange and not recognizing any of Stephen’s self in the man, of knowing what he would one day do to Tony that just didn’t compute in his mind. His anger felt like a beast waiting to be let out, something he hadn’t felt in so long, and looking at Strange’s daring, guilty eyes he found himself landing a hard kick to the man’s stomach, immediately doubling him over and Stephen was suddenly on his knees, straddling his future self and landing punches where he could. He knew he was speaking, spitting words from everything that had been building over the past day and a half, but he couldn’t even tell what they were.

   Distantly, after only perhaps three more solid punches he heard a flurry of motion, voices calling out in a straight panic around him. A shield appeared between Stephen and Strange’s face which he knew belonged to Wong, but it didn’t deter him, hands pounding at against it desperately, mind still in a state of chaos. It was only when an iron grip descended on his shoulder and pulled him back with a hard yank that he was driven form his haze.

   Stephen was sat a foot away from Strange now, who was still laying on the floor, propping himself up on his elbows, blood flowing steadily from his nose, and bruises already flaring along his left cheek bone, highlighting the sickly look of his scar. Tony was sat next to him, eyes wide and afraid, not daring to release his hold on Stephen where the Ironman glove held him down. Wong for his part seemed to just be taking it all in, his eyes intense with scrutinization as he put the pieces together.

   The burning anger inside Stephen had been doused by the presence of the other two men. He still felt it, but his usual control had apparently snapped back into place and it had gone from raging fire to smouldering coals in an instant. He couldn’t help but glare at his other self, however, taking in his beaten and guilty expression with disdain.

   “What the hell was that?” Tony growled, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the men.

   Stephen looked at Tony, his Tony. Young, scarred but not broken, not yet. There was fear there still, not of Stephen surprisingly enough but more of the lack of information. He always needed to know what was going on, and the way his body had a slight defensive angle against Strange hinted at that paranoia, that obviously Stephen had a good reason for what he did.

   “Well?” he asked again, head darting between the two men.

   To everyone’s surprise it was Strange who spoke first. “Its alright.” He paused to spit a wad of blood out onto the floor. “I deserved it.”

   Stephen took a shaky breath, pain coming in sharp jabs along his hands and arms now. He forced his mind to find a calm among the rocky storm of emotions inside of him, clung to it like a life raft as he worked to pull himself back into something recognizable, push back the horrific images of his short trip.

   “He did deserve it. I’m fine now.” He said with forced calm.

   He was met with two doubtful glares and one regretful, as though yearning for another beating. Stephen felt nauseous suddenly, stomach rolling as he inspected the damage he had caused to Strange.

   Wong stepped forward, his entire bearing being one of control and there was a collective sense of relief. “Fine. Tony let him up I don’t think Stephen will be capable of throwing anymore punches for awhile. Both of you need to call off your Cloaks as well, settle on the couch so we can discuss Stephen’s findings on the entity.”

   Stephen and Strange glanced over at their Cloaks simultaneously, where they were in a crude parody of their fight moments before. The older worn Cloak was tangled tightly up in Stephen’s, being held down securely so it wouldn’t intervene, but it too seemed to be all but limp, taking the embrace of the other stoically, much like how Strange responded to Stephen.

   The Cloaks untangled after a murmured command and Tony released Stephen with weary eyes. But almost immediately he was cradling Stephen’s horribly shaking hands as he led him to the couch, a different kind of anger in them.

   “You are an absolute idiot, Stephen.” His tone was hard and clearly upset as he refused to look his lover in the eyes.

   Wong summoned ice, towels, and bandages for the men. Tony got straight to work while Wong took a moment to give Strange a hand. Tony wrapped some ice in two small face clothes, before depositing each one in his hands to curl his long fingers around. Stephen hissed the moment they made contact, eyes closing and face scrunching up.

“No, complaining. You did it to yourself.”

   “If all you want to do is provide commentary you might as well leave now.” Stephen replied tightly, emotions still running amuck when all he really wanted was to be alone with Strange, to get answers this time.

   Tony shot him a dark look, but even Stephen could spot the swirling concern hidden in their depths. “Watch it Stephen. That isn’t how this works and you know it. We will talk about this later.”

   Stephen didn’t bother to reply, he had too much to deal with at the moment to address Tony’s concerns. He had told the man not to show up in the first place, he didn’t need to worry about how freaked out he seemed.

   Just then Wong stood, eyes hard as he glared at the two men. His hands settled on his hips, looking every inch the disapproving mother. “First things first, obviously Stephen saw something upsetting in the timeline. It will not be discussed, understood?”

   There was silent nodding from everyone but Tony who rolled his eyes where he sat pressed to Stephen’s side still. “Yeah let’s just forget my boyfriend tried to beat the shit out of himself.” He commented sarcastically.

   “It was justified.” Strange stated again.

   Tony glared. “Stop that. There is no justification for beating up yourself both figuratively or literally, just like there is no reason for you not to have defended yourself.”

   “You shouldn’t talk about things you don’t understand.” Strange responded, meeting Tony’s eyes for the first time, Stephen noted.

   “Then explain it to me!” Tony snapped. “I’m sick of all this mysterious time line bullshit. Lets just be clear for once.”

   “Tony.” Stephen warned.

   His jaw clenched, none to happy about his own outburst it seemed.

   Wong clapped his hands with two sharp taps gaining everyone’s attention again. His back had straightened, and he was levelling a look on Tony that made the man instantly wilt. “Let me be even more clear. If that rule can not be followed by any of you, I will have you sent to Kamar-Taj for the duration of this mission.” His tone brooked no argument, and unsurprisingly the men offered none.

   “Good. Let’s begin then. Were you able to identify the entity Stephen?”

   He looked across at Strange who met his gaze unflinchingly, even as Stephen wished he could erase this man from history forever. “I did, it’s the Soul Stone.”

   There was a sharp intake of breath from his left, Tony’s hand descending on Stephen’s forearm, looking for comfort. He couldn’t do much given the ice slowly melting in his hands, so he leaned a little more firmly in a show of comfort. Across from them Strange’s eyes had widened with both recognition and confusion. Wong for his part simply looked exasperated, as though eternally irritated by the ongoing chronicles of the Snap Aftermath.

   Strange was the first to speak up, addressing the first concern Stephen had himself. “The Soul Stone explains the energy for sure, but it doesn’t explain the entity we saw. That was a living creature not the Stone.”

   Wong managed to beat Stephen to an explanation. “Unless its both. There are plenty of creatures asleep or imprisoned within the earth. The Soul Stone would be able rouse any of them given enough time, perhaps even give them enough power to escape.”

   Stephen nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”

   Tony frowned at them. “So, you are saying that all this time one of the most powerful missing Infinity Stones has been hiding in a park under a bunch of rock?” he asked, incredulously.

   Stephen shrugged, wincing as his fingers spasmed. “They scattered Tony. We assumed out into the universe, but some obviously didn’t go as far as we thought.”

   Strange lifted one of the towels to his nose again, dabbing away the blood while he tapped his hand anxiously one the sofa arm. “It will be easy enough to check. We just go there in this time and see if it is in fact hiding. If not, it was clearly put there at a later date.”

   “And if it isn’t?” Tony asked.

   Wong shook his head. “Then we have a roughly ten-year Easter egg hunt to wade through. Wonderful.”

   “Actually.” Stephen interrupted, eyes downcast, focused on his aching hands. “It doesn’t matter if the Soul Stone is there or not. We have to leave it regardless.”

   “What do you-” Tony started, none too pleased.

   “Oh. That’s genius.” They all looked up at Strange whose eyes had sparked with understanding of Stephen’s plan. It did nothing to ease his rolling stomach, the way the man seemed to have already moved past the beating.

   “Either of you care to explain?” Wong groaned in exasperation.

   Stephen took a shaky breath, the calm in his mind feeling more and more tenuous by the moment. “Even if the Soul Stone isn’t there, whatever creature it woke up will be. All we need to do is kill it now before it has the opportunity to get powerful. Then we need to leave the Stone there for Strange to deal with back in his time.”

   Strange was nodding along and was quick to continue at Wong’s furrowed brow. “It’s the only way to maintain the timeline. If we remove the Soul Stone it could have serious implications, we all know how powerful it is. At least in the rocks we know it will be hidden for ten years. The entity hasn’t done anything all this time, so killing it now won’t cause any after effects.”

   “Can’t we just destroy it? That will keep anyone from using it same as leaving it there.” Tony’s voice was strained, hated the idea of leaving a Stone out there, in the wilderness.

   Stephen shot him a sympathetic little smile. “No, that would create a paradox. Strange would never had shown up and it would interrupt this entire timeline.”

   “I’m starting to hate that word.” Tony muttered. “Doesn’t the same thing happen if you kill the entity?”

   Strange shook his head. “No, the initial power surge I felt was the Stone. The entity was only after I tried to tap in and identify it. I would still stop to inspect it no matter what. As for the rest, well, you would be surprised how malleable the timeline can be otherwise. It will protect itself for the details.”

   “That…is actually a good plan.” Wong stated, eyes-wide with surprise.

   Stephen rolled his eyes at him.

   “Alright them.” Wong rubbed his hands together, eagerly. “The rest is straight forward. Strange and I will do some quick research on the sleeping entity, then we’ll go and kill the thing and identify if the Soul Stone is present. Stephen, you have effectively sidelined yourself thanks to your hands. You might as well get some sleep while we do that and be on standby if we need back up. Stark, you are staying out of it as well.”

   No one in the small group protested. Stephen, for himself did not care in the slightest. As Wong and Strange stood to go to the study where there were extra books about sleeping giants or something a wave of exhaustion crested like a wave over Stephen.

   All the adrenalin from what had only been an hour maximum, drained out of him on one hard exhale. Almost immediately his eyelids began to droop, his body hunching down further over his injured hands, his mind effectively turning hazy as he decided that he just wanted to hide away for the next month, to process and hurt on his own.

   Unfortunately, his boyfriend had other ideas apparently. He felt in an odd disconnected way when the couch cushion shifted next to him, heard the quiet thud of Tony kneeling in front of him. But it was only when Tony’s hands took the melting ice off his own that he was knocked out of his mind and into the present like a shot to the head.

   Tony was studiously ignoring Stephen’s glare as he used gentle, nimble fingers to inspect Stephen’s hands. They were shaking worse then usual, of course and he could barely contain a hiss when Tony carefully stretched them out, looking for fractures. Stephen bit his cheek to keep himself from pointing out that he would have been able to tell if he broke something right away.

  “Why did you do it?” Tony asked, eyes still downcast, tone dark and upset.

   “I thought we were going to talk about it later.” Stephen said through gritted teeth.

   “This is later.” He released Stephen’s hand and turned to grab a few larger pieces of ice that hadn’t melted yet in the cup. He wrapped them once more before depositing it in Stephen’s hands. His own warm ones forced him to curl his fingers again, but instead of removing them he kept both resting lightly on his, the weight oddly comforting. “Well?”

   Stephen didn’t know what to say. He looked into Tony’s angry, warm eyes and all he felt was the self-loathing and rage that had overwhelmed him simmering beneath the surface. Tony didn’t deserve what Strange had done to him, what Stephen would one day do. He deserved the world and a partner who would be honest and upfront. Instinctively Stephen began to pull his hands away from Tony, feeling the sudden need for space and distance, wanted to demand Tony leave for the rest of the night, if only to maintain Stephen’s sanity.

   But just as he began to shift back, Tony’s hands clamped onto his wrists, gently unyielding. “Don’t.” he warned. “Don’t do that. Talk to me.”

   Stephen let out a harsh, shuddering breath. He forced himself to meet Tony’s gaze, tried to convey his exhaustion, his distress, his utter inability to do this right now. “I can’t.”

   Tony shook his head. “Yes, you can. Remember, us first, we promised each other that. Talk to me and screw the fucking timeline.”

   Tears stung the back of Stephen’s eyes, the burn far to familiar in the past twenty-four hours. He clenched and unclenched his jaw again. “You don’t understand. This….I don’t even….I can’t.” he said again pathetically, the words getting tangled and torn on the way out.

   Tony’s eyes softened, but the concern there only grew. “Ok.” He said, unsure and taken aback by the mess Stephen was. He had never been like this in front of Tony before, had always been the rock between them, he didn’t know how to be the hurt one here. Tony swallowed thickly, loosened his grip on Stephen’s wrists and began to run his thumbs in soothing circles instead. “Ok, lets start with this. Why did you attack him? I’ve never seen you like that before Stephen.”

   Something sickly and horrible rose in Stephen, the same thing he had been pushing down since Tony dragged him off Strange. It twisted and turned inside him, like a slow thick poison moving though his veins and suddenly Stephen couldn’t take it. A sob broke from his chest in a rough hiccupping gasp.

   Tony jumped startled, then his eyes widened, and he was up straight on his knees, yanking Stephen into his arms roughly. Stephen didn’t hesitate to bury himself in Tony’s neck, his throbbing hands knocking each other as he threw them around him, dropping uncaringly. Tony was murmuring words that were supposed to be comforting but Stephen didn’t listen, focused on the warm body holding him, the sweaty, grease, and peppermint smell coating his skin. Tried to hold on to the one thing that was real in the moment, and not the abstract things he had been told, experienced.

   “I hate him.” Stephen finally gasped, unaware of his own words at first. Tony stilled against him but said nothing. “I hate him,” Stephen said again. “I can’t stand knowing that is what I’ll be, I can’t stand who he is.”

   Tony pulled back, expression tight. “Ok.” He wiped at the tears on Stephen’s cheek. “Ok, then you won’t be. I won’t let that be you.” His voice shifted, he held Stephen’s face in his hands, declaring vehemently, “This was an opportunity. I don’t know what you saw, but now you know what not to do. _It doesn’t have to be you_.”

   Stephen didn’t respond, couldn’t tell him that it wasn’t how things worked. That knowing what a version of him would do, didn’t erase the truth of what kind of person he was. Instead, he let himself lean forward until their foreheads touched, eyes closed, and body shaking, unable to help himself.

   “I’m sorry.” For so so much, he thought.

   “Its ok, we’ll figure this out. Together.” A hand stroked through Stephen’s hair and he all but nuzzled into it. “But I won’t watch you hurt yourself, not even a physical version from the future. That will never be acceptable.”

   “I know.” He breathed.

   Tony seemed to realize that Stephen was drifting quickly, it was taking all of his energy to stay focused on this conversation, tell his boyfriend what he wanted to hear. His hands settled on his shoulders and Stephen blinked his eyes open wearily to see Tony’s worried, guilty expression.

   “Shit I forgot you’ve only slept for like an hour. Come on.” He stood, tugging Stephen up with him. The Cloak billowed and effectively brought him to his feet with little to no strain. “Let’s get you to bed, but in the morning, we are talking about this properly.”

   Stephen didn’t even bother to protest. He knew he should try to stay awake, at least to make sure Wong and Strange’s expedition was successful, but he would be happier not ever seeing the man again. So, he allowed Tony to lead him up the stairs and to their bedroom with an arm looped through his, mindful of his hands.

   The second they entered the room Stephen went straight for the bed. He didn’t care about changing or even kicking off his shoes as collapsed onto it. The softness made him let out an appreciative moan as he shifted up until his head rested on the goose feather pillows. He laid on his back, eyes already closed against the light, and with a single wave of his hand the Cloak followed him and winded itself around his hands, so he wouldn’t jostle them while he slept. He carefully set them down on his stomach and trusted them to remain protected.

   He allowed his body to relax for the first time in far too long, feeling his lethargic limbs surrender to comfort as he listened to Tony’s quiet footsteps move about the room. He heard the blinds being drawn closed, a familiar click as the lights were turned off, the shuffling as he played with the fireplace. It was undeniably soothing, a welcome distraction form all the thoughts clamoring to invade his mind. He forced it all back, focused on the rise and fall of his chest, the throb in his hands. By the time the bed dipped from Tony’s weight he was already drifting off into blessed darkness.

   A grounding weight settled next to him, Tony’s head resting on his chest, carefully placed away from his wrapped hands. There was silence but for their breathing, and just as unconsciousness began to take over the quietest of whispers reached his ears.

   “You scared me today. You were so worn down when I first got here, like you had just after Titan. You were so sad like the weight of the world landed on your shoulders the moment he showed up. I hated it, but not as much as watching you beat yourself up, seeing the _self-loathing_ in your eyes. I’ve never seen a look so hateful on your face and it fucking killed me. Every time your hit him it felt like a swing at me. I want to know what you saw because it feels like I failed you, after everything I promised you.” His voice was shaky and wet, faded in and out with each sentence, leaving Stephen with the distinct impression he wasn’t supposed to answer. It was just well. If Tony knew the truth, he wouldn’t be half as worried, he would be long gone, or throwing punches himself.

   With that thought in mind Stephen finally surrendered to the haze dancing around his head this entire time. He hoped when he awoke next it would be to find this all was a horrible nightmare, that the memories of an older grief-stricken Tony would fade away with other scenes of forgotten night terrors.

 

 

 

   Wong sat silently across from Strange, inspecting the colourful array of bruising speckled along his familiar porcelain skin. The bleeding had stopped awhile ago and with it the man had abandoned the towel in favour of the books around them. Strange hadn’t even looked up when Stephen and Tony had passed by in near silence, instead his eyes remained glued to the delicate pages. It was unnerving to be sitting across from his friend, whom he knew so well, yet not recognize him fully as the same man. He was different to be sure, older, arguably wiser but as evidence had shown, prone to the same damn mistakes over and over again.

   He had warned both of the Stephen’s about their impulsiveness, a trait that would not falter with time it seemed. It was that very trait tonight that revealed the game being played this entire time. Wong was not a stupid man and looking at this wretchedly sad creature in front of him he couldn’t help but feel pity. Strange hadn’t lifted a finger to defend himself when Stephen attacked because he had expected it, which meant whatever Stephen had seen when he traveled had been ultimately planned. Dangerous, reckless game, but one he suspected the man had played before.

   So, with a trained tone of nonchalance he addressed Strange without looking up from his book. “You set him up, didn’t you?”

   The answer was immediate. “Yes.”

   “And you knew what his response would be.”

   “I do know myself, yes.”

   “And you wanted him to do it.”

   There was a pause and when Wong glanced up, Strange was ghosting fingertips along his bruises, eyes staring blankly at something he couldn’t see. “I deserved far worse.”

   Wong turned back to his book, but his mind was firmly on the conversation. “Guilt. You’ve always been terrible at dealing with it. I suppose that won’t change.”

   A heavy sigh, shift in movement and Wong knew he was clutching whatever was under his tunic. “I did something that was very hard, I feel guilty about it, but I also don’t regret it.”

   Wong looked up again, raised an eyebrow. “Don’t regret it? That’s why you came back to this time and showed Stephen, your past self, something that would definitely make him change the timeline?”

   Strange met his gaze, something weary and defiant hanging there. “No, that isn’t why I came. I had a very good reason for sending Stephen there, dues that needed to be paid.” He paused. “You know, at least half of this was your plan.”

   Wong shook his head. “I doubt that.”

   “You are much more flexible in your old age Wong.” He smirked, a familiar gesture on his foreign face, making him look younger.

   He glared, going back to his book. “Then why did you do it? And how do you plan on saving the timeline after what you showed him?”

   There was the quietest of clinks as a bottle was set down on the table, drawing Wong’s attention. Strange nodded at him and he picked it up. It was tiny cork bottle with a luminescent purple liquid sloshing inside as Wong examined it. Finally, he popped the top off and carefully wafted it, he was hit hard by an earthy scent mixed with a harsh tang to cut through it. Wong took all of three seconds before a click went off in his head and he stared at Strange in disbelief.

   “Where did you get this?”

   “You made it for me. Like I said, flexible.”

   Wong carefully put the stopper back in the bottle and set it down on the table. He found himself staring at it, “That is only enough for Stephen. What about me and Stark? Or even Peter?”

   Strange shrugged. “You’ll keep the secret we both know that. I’ll explain to Stephen and I already know he’ll take it, and he’ll also perform the simple spell on Tony. I figured you could take care of Peter for me.”

   Wong, who was usually so unaffected hated the churning in his gut. “So, we’ve done all this before?”

   “Yes.” Stephen paused. “Its for a good reason. You’ll know that one day.”

   Even as Wong felt the first prickle of self-loathing move through him, he found himself nodding to Strange. “Like I said. Picking up your messes well into old age.”

   Strange offered a weak smile, squeezing the object beneath his tunic.

 

 

   When Stephen finally woke, it was to a disorienting sense of déjà vu. It was nighttime he knew, evening at most, the sun set and moon out for the night. He had woken of his own violation, feeling drained but more rested then he had in the thirty-six hours. He found himself staring into the darkness for a moment, illuminated only by the quietly burning fire, its light throwing shadows across the room. He turned his head to find Tony, on his back, head tilted away, one hand outstretched to rest against Stephen’s side. The careful distance brought his attention back to the deep ache in his hands, which quickly sparked into sharp jabs as he flexed his fingers, still enveloped in his Cloak.

   It was that sudden pain that brought his memory crashing down on him in a wave. He found himself bolting upright, breath harsh and heaving as mind reached out automatically, searching. He found what he was looking for, Strange was downstairs, alone. He glanced at Tony to make sure he hadn’t woken him, then worked to calm himself down. He needed to get it together, he could sense Strange waiting for him, a confrontation that he knew would be none to pleasant.

   As he turned to place his feet on the floor he realized he was still dressed, having expected the cool chill of the hardwood. He made to get up and the Cloak smoothly unfurled from his hands, without even a jostle. It settled itself around his shoulders a moment later, and he sighed needing that small comfort. As he left the room, silent as ever, he was careful not to wake his lover.

   Soon enough he was descending the stairs, an odd numbness spreading throughout his body, his mind. He could only compare it to the leadup of meeting a foe, usually there was adrenalin as well, but the numbness helped him keep his head, to stay calm. It was only appropriate that he should have the same reaction now.

   He found Strange in the same place as the night he first met him. He was standing in front of a bookshelf, but instead of frantically searching, he held a single volume in his hand, turning the pages slowly.

   He sensed his approached and turned. The two men, different but the same stared at one another for a moment. They were equal parts unsure and weary, tired and oh so ready to find solid ground after the difficult day they had. The book snapped shut and without a word the men took seats across from each other, settling comfortably into their couches, a mutual sense of understanding to wait, to listen, to learn.

   Stephen was the first to break the silence, his eyes on the bruises just barely visible in the dark room. The only illumination was the roaring fireplace, its crackling sound soothing. He didn’t suggest adding lighting, they both sensed a gravity better kept to the shadows, a protection in the darkness.

   “Did you handle the entity?”

   Strange cleared his throat, his eyes flashing in the orange light. “Yes, its dead. It was still a sleep, not even a challenge. We found the Soul Stone as well.”

   “Left it there?”

   “Yes. Safe and sound. I’ll retrieve it and destroy it when I return to my time.” Strange confirmed.

   A sense of relief permeated the room as the one issue was dealt with. No more threat on the horizon and that was when Stephen realized for the first time that he no longer held control of the wards in the future. The strain of them had been imperceptible among his emotional turmoil, but now he felt lighter. Something he was sure wouldn’t last.

   Stephen looked at him then, intent on the answers that had been swirling around in his head since before he fell asleep. “Why did you do it?” His voice nearly cracked at the end, but he managed to contain himself, repeated the mantra of calm in his head.

   Strange let out a heavy sigh, fingers twitching where they sat in his lap, fiddling with the edge of his Cloak. “Tell me what you know first. We both want answers and it will only work if we do this right.”

   “I don’t care about the timeline.” Stephen snapped.

   Strange nodded slowly. “At the moment, neither do I. I’m asking so I know where to start.”

   Stephen clenched his jaw, tried not to let his mind cast back to meeting the older Tony, couldn’t believe it all happened yesterday. “I met your Tony. He thinks you’re dead.”

   “Yes, he does. Its been about two years now since I apparently met my end.”

   Stephen swallowed thickly, emotions coming on too fast. “Why would you do that? Let him think you’re dead? Do you even _know_ what the fuck you did to him?”

   Strange’s voice was infuriatingly neutral. “Yes, I know exactly what I did to him, more then anyone even realizes.”

   It wasn’t enough for Stephen, sitting forward in his seat, his eyes began to burn. “You broke him. He still wears his wedding ring you know? Still has his fucking tracker sending out transmissions like he thinks you could still be alive. Its how he found me, the watch that Tony made in case we ever get separated.” He took a heavy breath, and this time he couldn’t stop his voice from breaking. “He clung to me like he was dying, he told me he loved me over and over again because he never got to say it to you before your apparent death.”

   Strange said nothing to that, but Stephen thought he saw a more pronounced glistening in his eyes. He let out a growl of frustration. “Say something, anything dammit. Convince me you didn’t just break apart the man we love and left him by himself to suffer from it.”

   “I can’t because I did, I left him, I left Peter, I left a lot of people.”

   “ _Why?”_

   Strange leaned forward himself now, eyes intense as they looked into Stephen’s. “As much as you don’t like it right now, wish it wasn’t true, we _are_ the same person. What would have to happen for you to fake your own death?”

   Stephen stared back blankly, mind whirring. He didn’t know what would make him betray Tony like that, to leave him so broken was something he would never wish on his lover, to abandon him seemed like the cruelest of jokes.

   As if sensing his struggle, Strange’s tone turned sad and prompting. “We’ve done it to him before, a little more literal maybe, but still.”

   Something clicked into place, and Stephen’s breath left on a hard exhale. His stomach twisted, his lungs felt tight, and his head pounded as images of Titan flashed through him memory, the hundreds of thousands of futures he had suffered through. Stephen was unable to speak, was staring at Strange in abject horror, didn’t want to believe it would end this way.

   Strange could tell he wasn’t capable of speech yet, and he pushed forward to take advantage. His voice turned low and soft, a horrifying empty sadness to it as though forcefully disconnecting from the story he was telling.

   “It started on a Wednesday, Peter and I were here, the kid was working on a project, he was really excited about it.” A humorless laugh. “I was attacked, there were plenty of them, overwhelming numbers but I would eventually fight them off. Peter though…he came to help, even when he knew better, he didn’t understand the creatures. Sure, enough when it was all over, I found Peter and his back was broken, absolutely shattered.”

   Stephen felt bile rise up his throat, his words painting the imagery in his mind.

   “He didn’t even scream, he was in so much pain. I salvaged what I could with my magic, got him to Christine, who arranged for a surgery where I could also use my magic to help. In the end, with his regenerative abilities, my magic, our surgical efforts, and Tony’s tech it took him about eleven months to fully recover.” Strange paused, his face crumpling, eyes still distant with memory.

   “But it was Tony’s face that I’ll never forget. He was so betrayed and angry, it was brutal to watch. I moved them both out of Sanctuary immediately, mainly for convenience, Tony’s tower had more wheelchair accessibility, the tech functioned to help him easier. Tony didn’t blame me, or anyone. Peter didn’t either, it was part of the job and I felt the same way. But that was the first time I almost used the Eye for a selfish purpose. I wanted to go back and save Peter from that pain, make him listen to me.”

   Stephen shook his head, heart aching. “What does that have to do with faking your death?”

   Strange’s eyes refocused, coming back to the present. “It was the first temptation, Stephen. I began searching for reasons to use the Eye, not just to turn back time but to predict the future. I wanted to anticipate attacks, not just fight them.” His expression turned self-deprecating. “Wong once told us that stronger men then us have lost their way. I think we began to lose ours, for good reasons, but the means don’t change the end.”

   “You saw something when you finally used it that made you decide to leave.” Stephen breathed.

   “Yes. Two things actually.” Strange began to tap his fingers together anxiously. “I saw Tony and Peter die because of my stupidity, my cockiness with the Eye and I saw a new adversary for the Avengers that they would lose against. They only way I saw a win was through a surprise attack.” His voice had gone monotone, while Stephen felt like he couldn’t breath. “Faking my death would make the enemy push up their plans, leaving them better unprepared in their eagerness to attack a planet suddenly vulnerable without their Sorcerer Supreme.”

   “But you went one step further.” Stephen murmured frozen where he sat.

   “That’s right. I realized the best course of action was to fake my death for _everyone_ , not just the adversary.”

   Stephen closed his eyes, leaning back and feeling all that self-hatred shift to something even more distasteful, self-pity. He sensed Strange was no longer looking into the future but was firmly rooted in this time. When Stephen re-opened his eyes, it was to find Strange’s eyes ablaze with a conviction.

   “If there was any other way I would have done it. I have never felt pain like I did when I left Tony, when I watched from afar as he and Peter mourned. I hate myself for what I’ve done, I live with a gnawing guilt that makes me want to scratch off my skin some nights, but the Eye showed my stealing nearly twenty years from Tony and forty from Peter, so I’ll never bring myself to say I regret it.” Strange wiped at some tears that slipped out roughly, unwilling even now to allow himself to cry over his own decisions.

   Stephen for his part was hyper aware of his Tony upstairs, the pain-filled eyes of Tony in the future and for the first time as he looked across at Strange he recognized himself in that body, his motivations, his flaws, his pain. The worst part was…he understood and no matter how big the hole was inside him now, gaping with guilt and self-loathing he understands that it could be bigger, emptier…filled with hatred for the world, a bitterness and anger that would only be all the more unbearable.

   The smallest of smiles flickered onto Strange’s lips, recognition that Stephen got it. He liked to think that he could manage anything, he could learn to control himself, would never be tempted by the dark arts or the power hanging around his neck but the man in front of him now was warning Stephen that he couldn’t. He was exceptionally, horrifically, disturbingly human in every way, a man not meant to have that much power.

   “That’s why you don’t have the Eye.” Stephen stated.

   Strange nodded. “I had to give it up after that last time I looked into the future. I gave it to Wong who returned it Kamar-Taj, where it belongs.”

   Stephen bit his lip, felt tears slipping from his eyes, didn’t bother wiping them away as a sob worked its way up. He only barely managed to repress it as he looked at Strange. “Well I guess we make a right mess of things.” He said wetly, felt the tremors get worse in his hands, but not from pain this time. “No happy endings for us.”

   Strange frowned and leaned forward again his whole-body arching, leaving his face illuminated by the fire in an array of orange and shadow. “No, you don’t understand Stephen. This _is_ our happy ending, it is the best we could have hoped for.”

   “Explain it me?” Stephen couldn’t help the pleading tone of voice, needed something to hold on to.

   Strange swallowed. “The futures I saw were so much worse. What I’ve done to Tony is unforgivable, despicable even and my being here is paying my dues.” He paused, took a heavy breath. “I took his husband from him, I even took his chance to say goodbye. Today by sending _you_ forward, I gave that back to him. He finally got closure.”

   “Pittance of a prize don’t you think?” Stephen spat bitterly.

   “Yes. He deserves more, better. But it wasn’t on the cards, there was no future but this one where he and Peter are _alive_ and _well._ I didn’t settle for anything less, we would never, even if that meant we are hurting ourselves. Remember, I lost him too. But in the end, I think this was the best version of myself I could have hoped for.”

   Stephen took a heavy breath, hated knowing all this. His mind was spinning with Strange’s words with the realization of a fair future instead of a happy one. “Is that the only reason you came? To give your Tony the chance to say goodbye?”

   A sad little smirk appeared on his lips. “I really did not expect the Soul Stone or entity, it just gave me a good excuse.” He paused, voice shifting to one of sincerity. “You should know the other reason. I wanted to remind myself why I did it.”

   “Did it work?”

   “Yeah.” He nodded slowly. “It did. It was worth it, for Tony.”

   “Well.” Stephen said, sniffing and wiping at his tears. “You fucked it now by telling me all this. What are you going to do now? Its almost impossible for me to act like I don’t know, I’ll always be looking for another way.”

   Strange looked at him for a moment. “So, you understand?”

   “I don’t know what to think.” Stephen answered, honestly. “My head is still spinning and its been a rough few hours.”

   Strange nodded sympathetically. Then he reached into his Cloak and pulled out a small luminescent bottle, holding some purple substance. “What’s that?” Stephen asked.

   Strange placed it on the table, pushed to Stephen’s side and watched as he picked it up for inspection. “We have to reset the timeline or else things will get messy and I promise you it will be far worse then what we have dealt with so far.”

   Stephen only glanced at him.

   Strange took a heavy breath. “That bottle will let you forget in one swing, all of this.”

   He looked at the man sharply, hand curling around it painfully. “You want me to just forget it happened?”

   “It’s the only way. You have to forget, but the impact of visiting my Tony and giving him the chance at goodbye will still have its impact.”

   Stephen stared at it dubiously. “What about Tony, Wong, and Peter?”

   Strange gave a weak smile. “There is a simple spell that will erase Tony’s memory of the last twenty-four hours. Wong is taking care of Peter with the same one, but you are immune as a Sorcerer, so this is just for you when its done.”

   “Wong?”

   “He’s the reason this plan worked. He never forgot but didn’t know the details, all he knew what where to push me when I found the energy source. It leaves enough non-invasive interference to keep the loop steady.”

   Stephen’s brain hurt immensely, but he understood that if he did this, the future would go forward as this Stephen described, apparently saving both Tony and Peter, as well as the universe. Though not until he faced his own dark trials.

   As if sensing his indecision Strange spoke to him quietly, gentle. “We our just men Stephen, we were never meant to hold an Infinity Stone in our hands, never meant to battle aliens, or dimensional beings, never meant to know how future. She isn’t something to be played with and we paid the price, take what mercy she gave us.”

   “It feels like I’m deceiving him. Going on oblivious, moving in together, getting married, making promises I’ll never keep, putting him through that pain.” Stephen muttered.

   “We are.” Strange stated. “But the life we both had together until then was worth the life lived.”

   Stephen closed his eyes. The fact that the world hadn’t imploded on them with a singularity meant the decision had already been made even if he felt the complete opposite. He knew Strange was standing, preparing to leave. He didn’t bother to open his eyes.

   “Goodbye Stephen. We have a long journey ahead of us, try to find the beauty in it, and remember no matter how low we sink, we just have further to climb.”

   Silence and Stephen knew he was gone. Yet, he felt all the heavier for it. His mind was one of fuzzy disquiet as he stood of his own violation and began making his way to the bedroom. His heart began to beat a hard, pounding rhythm against his chest, the hole in him stretching his corners in painful little spasms. Before he knew it, Stephen was in their bedroom, seated on the edge of the bed, one of Tony’s hands in his, while the other gripped the purple substance.

   He stared down at his peaceful face, where it was illuminated by a sliver of moonlight peeking from behind the corners. Sobs wracked his body then, silent little tremors and sounds muffled with the back of his hand holding the bottle. He loved him so fucking much, and as he leaned down he and his hand gripping Tony’s began to glow he decided he never hated himself more.

   “I’m sorry.” He hiccupped into his ear.

   He felt the moment the spell took effect. He found himself lying next to Tony, hands gripping his shirt lightly while he lifted the one with the bottle. He uncorked it with a harsh flip of the finger and thumb. He downed it one go, threw it across the room uncaring of where it landed. He rested his head on Tony’s chest and clung to fantasies about Strange and older Tony’s favourite memories together. Imagined their wedding and the vows he would tell Tony if he were awake, he whispered variations of them, refusing to let it go just yet as he drifted off to sleep and things began to slip from his grasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Takes deep breath* I have never been more nervous to post a chapter while being simultaneously proud of it lol. 
> 
> Two important matters of business ;)  
> 1) I have the entire plot of older Stephen and Tony essentially planned out, would anyone be interested in a stand alone story covering everything they went through from Peter breaking his back to the aftermath of this story?  
> 2) Listen I just finished Third Star right before posting this and am traumatized by Ben's amazing acting and a story sadder then I could ever achieve. That doesn't mean I won't try, so I dare say expect some angst to be coming soon lol.
> 
> Can't wait to hear what you guys think! I'll just being over here crying over that movie for the foreseeable future :(

**Author's Note:**

> Start of a new adventure ;)


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